


Bro Down

by Mellow_Yellow



Category: Pod Save America (RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hook-Up, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-17 17:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 56,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14193978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellow_Yellow/pseuds/Mellow_Yellow
Summary: Lovett wrenched Tommy’s head down, growling, “Come on, don’t be a fucking baby about it.” Urging Tommy to bite him harder, apparently.Tommy huffed, exasperated, against the damp skin of Lovett’s neck. “You’re so fucking annoying, christ.”Lovett tried to kick at him with his pinned knees. “I’m annoying? You smell like beer and you weigh a thousand pounds and all you’re doing is heavy-breathing against my neck.” He tugged on Tommy’s hair again, which felt really good, shit.“God,” Tommy bit out, skin hot. “You never shut up.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been messing around with this for almost a calendar year so I figured rather than trying to finish it as a one-shot (which I am Bad At) I'd give into my nature and just WIP it out.
> 
> as usual: secret = safe.

*

 

The night Tommy met Lovett, Tommy was more than halfway to Very Drunk and wandering unsteadily down the upstairs hallway to the bathroom.

It wasn’t as crowded up here, because technically none of the party guests were supposed to be up in the living areas unless they were with a brother, but Tommy still had to weave between plenty of people parked in groups or leaning against walls making out.

He took a wide step to avoid Calvin and some girl he was kissing and slammed bodily into someone else.

Reflexively, he reached to steady the person he’d knocked into and grabbed a pair of shoulders at about chest height. Before he could get his bearings and apologize he felt two hands plant firmly on his chest and shove at him, hard.

Caught off guard, he staggered back and let go of the shoulders.

He blinked at the guy who had pushed him, shorter with dark curly hair, scowling mutinously up at Tommy like he wanted to fucking go for his throat, like a terrier.

“Whoa,” Tommy said, only slurring slightly. “What the fuck?”

The guy’s shoulders were tensed up around his ears. “Fucking don’t push me around, asshole,” he seethed.

Blinking in bewilderment, Tommy said, “You pushed _me_.” He was quickly becoming annoyed, edging into full-on mad. Who  _was_ this fucking guy? “You _dick_.”

“Yeah, in self-defense, because I was about to be bulldozed the fuck over by some drunken frat idiot.”

“It was an accident, you goddamn drama queen,” Tommy snapped.

“What, is that some kind of slur?” The guy laughed. He had a really mean, kind of infectious laugh.

“The _fuck_ —that wasn’t a slur, it’s like, a common saying.”

The guy waved a dismissive hand in the air, apparently determined to be Offended. “Whatever, try harder, Frat Idiot. I went to school in rural-adjacent New Jersey, I’ve forgotten more homophobic slurs than you could learn in your entire life.”

That was...a lot for Tommy to process.

“What a weird thing to brag about,” he murmured, staring down at the guy in reluctant fascination. He blinked, feeling aggressive but confused, like a bear that had just been poked awake with a stick.

The guy narrowed his eyes at Tommy like he was waiting for the deeper insult. When Tommy just looked at him, swaying gently on his feet, he rolled his eyes, clearly deeply disgusted with everything Tommy chose to do and be.

Even though they’d just fucking _met_ (or ran into each other, or whatever the verbiage was, Tommy was toasted, he couldn’t really say) two fucking _seconds_ ago.

But before Tommy could more thoroughly defend himself from this fucking onslaught of an encounter, he saw a door open down the hall and saw Favs walk out trailed by Billy and Trevor, still laughing at something one of them had said.

He looked stoned. Tommy was jealous.

Favs turned and caught sight of Tommy, waving brightly. Then his eyes landed on the hostile little shithead still glaring daggers at Tommy and his face lit up.

“Lovett!” he called out. The guy spun around as Favs marched toward them. “Lovett, you made it!” He clapped a hand on the guy’s shoulder when he reached them. “You’re late! You said you’d be here around ten, dude.”

The guy, Lovett, apparently, shrugged. He still looked testy but approximately a hundred times less likely to start a fight while talking to Favs than to Tommy, which felt unfair.

“I’ve got a lot of stuff going on, Favreau,” Lovett said, smirking. “Don’t be so desperate for my attention.”

Tommy opened his mouth, ready to be outraged on Favs’s behalf, but Favs laughed, unoffended, compelling Tommy to stand down while he sorted out this new dynamic.

Favs smiled at them both. “Hey, you met Tommy!”

Lovett smiled too, much sharper than Favs. “Yeah, White Girl Wasted over here almost knocked me on my ass.”

“Hey,” Tommy said, not sure how much he could yell at Lovett now that he was apparently Favs’ friend. Probably not very much, he hazarded, watching Favs throw his head back, laughing easily.

Favs punched Tommy fondly in the arm. “That’s our Tommy. Alcohol tolerance of a home-schooled tween.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Tommy said again, because _hey_. “Not cool.”

“Yeah, Favreau, that’s pretty unfair to homeschooled teens,” Lovett said sharply. “I’m sure they have hidden depths.”

Tommy watched Favs laugh again, and usually he could handle light to moderate mocking (it was his third year in a frat, after all) but he didn't like the familiar way Lovett was regarding him, all _this fucking idiot_. Tommy was not Lovett's fucking idiot, he was pretty sure.

“How did you guys even meet?” he demanded, baffled.

Lovett was nothing like any of the guys him or Favs or anyone from the frat usually hung out with. His nerdy fucking tennis shoes alone, at a fucking _frat party_ , made Tommy want to cover his face with his hands.

Favs turned to him eagerly, pointing at Lovett like Tommy might have lost him in the narrow upstairs hallway.

“Tommy, this was the guy I was telling you about, he’s part of the College Democrats and he put together that really great protest over the summer, remember?”

Vaguely, Tommy remembered Favs getting all worked up about some demonstration on Bascom Hill in July, and how it was really well organized and impactful, and the guy in charge was really great. Tommy hadn’t been able to go because he’d been meeting Katie’s parents that weekend and hadn’t given much thought to it afterward, especially not the guy who put it together even though he was “so smart, Tommy, and seriously hilarious, you’d love him.”

But then, everyone Favs met was “so smart” and “seriously so articulate and interesting” and “definitely going to end up doing something big after graduation.” After a while, it kind of lost its significance. And like so many before it, Tommy had filed the protest and its organizer away as mostly white noise.

Which, apparently, was a clerical error on Tommy's part, he realized as he looked at Lovett flushing next to Favs, looking pretty pleased with himself and with Favs’ attention.

“Yeah, I guess,” Tommy allowed slowly, unenthusiastically. Favs and Lovett were mostly grinning at each other like best friends and ignoring Tommy, so he added, “What is he even doing here, though?”

“What?” Favs’ nose crinkled as he chuckled. “It’s a party, Tommy. Lovett’s here _to party_ , I assume.” He let Lovett’s shoulder go and nudged him with an elbow. “Right?”

A sly grin worked its way over Lovett’s face. “What, you think some frat function is a party? Please. You gotta let me get you over to Plan B.”

“Isn’t that the gay club?” Tommy blurted, drunk and surly.

Lovett snorted. “Yeah, _Tommy_. It’s the gay club.”

Favs, gliding over the tension as usual, just laughed at Lovett again. “This party isn’t good enough for you, Lovett? Big talk from a man without a drink in his hand.”

Lovett looked defiantly at Tommy as though this was somehow his fault. “Well, I figured maybe some bro would bring me a drink after nearly knocking me over in the hallway, but I guess not.”

Favs shot Tommy a reproving look. “Tommy, why didn’t you get him a cup?” As vice president, he took Kappa Sigma hospitality very seriously. “Come on, Lovett. Keg’s downstairs.”

Favs patted Tommy on the back as he pushed through, Lovett following close behind.

Tommy was ready to roll his eyes and move on to the bathroom, his original goal, when Lovett paused, in Tommy’s way again.

It made Tommy more than a little belligerent. “ _What_ , dude, jesus christ.”

Lovett took a step closer so his chest brushed against Tommy’s shoulder. He had to crane his neck a bit as he stared up at Tommy, eyes bold and assessing.

A familiar, hot jolt ran up Tommy’s spine. He froze, even as he continued scowling down at Lovett. Lovett had really dark eyes, and kind of a cute nose, which was annoying to notice when Lovett was in the middle of being a shithead.

“Be careful out there,” Lovett said finally. He was still smirking. Tommy wanted to smear it off Lovett’s mouth with his thumb. “Alcohol abuse kills.”

God, what a pain in the ass this guy was. “Fuck you.”

Tommy tried to look fiercely annoyed, or at the very least unwelcoming, but he was drunk and Lovett seemed impervious.

He lifted a hand and patted Tommy’s chest. Tommy gaped at him until, without another word, he pushed off like Tommy was a dock and sailed away down the hall, knocking Tommy off balance again so he had to catch himself on the wall.

Lovett glanced over his shoulder at the stairs, taking in Tommy staring in drunken outrage, and flipped him off.

Tommy felt his face do a thing, jaw working. What an _asshole_.

Like he could hear Tommy, Lovett tipped his chin back and laughed.

Then he was gone, down the stairs, and Tommy really had to pee so he stumbled off for the bathroom.

All he could think as he closed the door behind him, fumbling for his zipper, foggy but loud was what in the _fuck_ was that?

 

*

 

He made it a point to lose track of Favs and Lovett for the rest of the night.

He tried to get his dick sucked by Genna again until she went home with the rest of the girls from Pi Phi and then he got stoned with Caleb and a few other brothers and if he was deliberately avoiding rooms where he could hear Favs laughing and Lovett’s annoying strident voice, that was his drunk brain’s business, not anyone else’s.

It was four a.m. when he stumbled into his own room, yanking his shirt over his head to change. Someone had spilled another beer on him and people were hanging out in the backyard now and it was chilly outside in his wet shirt.

His shirt was over his head so he couldn’t see when he bumped into someone.

He leapt back, arms struggling free of the shirt. “Fuck!”

“Jesus!” someone else yelped.

He finally got free of the shirt, peering into the darkness, and saw that the someone was short and hovering near his dresser. He narrowed his eyes. He recognized that shape. Favs’ annoying friend, what was his dumb name again?

“Lovett? What in the fuck?”

“Stop running into me,” Lovett snarled. “Is that like your fucking kink or something?”

“You’re in my room!” Tommy looked at the lacrosse t-shirt clutched in Lovett’s hand. “And those are my clothes!”

Lovett looked at his hand holding Tommy’s shirt and then pointedly back at Tommy. “No,” he said, slowly, “they're not.” He didn’t put the shirt down.

Sighing, Tommy held out his hand, palm flat. He felt a little spinny but mostly irritated. “Give it.”

He watched Lovett stick out his chin. “No. Favs spilled beer all over me.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.” Tommy stalked closer. “You can’t just walk around someplace you don’t live and steal clothes.” He made a grab for the shirt, but Lovett danced out of his reach. “Jesus, just give it back.”

Lovett planted his feet. “No.”

Tommy had like two dozen of the same stupid shirt from the rec league he was on, but for some reason the idea of letting Lovett just walk out of here with one of them was unconscionable.

He reached to snatch the shirt and Lovett turned a hip, blocking him in what was admittedly pretty respectable defense. Eyes narrowed, Lovett drove a pointy knuckle into Tommy’s side, digging it directly between his ribs.

“Ow!” Tommy jerked away, which was a tactical error because Lovett just advanced, trying to get him again. “Ow, _stop_!” It was like getting nipped at by one of those yappy dogs. He couldn’t dodge away quick enough.

As Lovett reared back to shove him again Tommy threw an arm out, trapping Lovett’s arm to his side.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Lovett shrieked, struggling.

“Stop—don’t _kick_ me, god.” Tommy adjusted his grip, getting Lovett’s other arm pinned down, who was still holding on to the stupid shirt with an iron grip. Tommy couldn’t rip it away, but, crucially to the next series of events, he did manage to destabilize them both.

In a slow sideways grapple, they stumbled and took each other down onto the bed with their twin, unbalanced weights.

Lovett made an exaggerated groan. “You’re fucking crushing me!”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Fucking chill,” he said. He went to detangle their limbs but as he pulled at the shirt, fucking Lovett still wouldn’t give it up. He met Lovett’s eyes; their faces were only inches apart so it was easy. Lovett looked mutinous. “Give me. The _shirt_.”

He saw the moment Lovett decided to knee him in the thigh perilously close to his groan and threw a leg over his hips to forestall his plot. Lovett squawked and shoved at his chest so Tommy pinned his arms above him on the bed.

So now they were pressed together, breathing hard, glaring as Tommy felt a disorienting combo of fucked up and clear-headed from fury, and slowly began to realize he’d made a tactical error.

Lovett shifted beneath him, rebellious, and Tommy felt their boners rub together. He sucked in a breath. He saw Lovett’s eyebrows twitch. He hummed and arched his hips.

“Fuck,” Tommy bit out, strained. He leaned his weight harder on Lovett’s arms. He was staring at Lovett’s mouth, where it was parted as he breathed out, face still screwed up like a storm cloud.

“Stop fucking staring at me,” Lovett burst out, bucking to either try and throw Tommy off or to press closer together, Tommy couldn’t tell and for some reason that was—fuck, hot as shit.

He could see his shirt still clutched firmly in Lovett’s thieving hand where it was trapped on the bed, and Tommy was so abruptly turned the fuck on it gave him a head rush.

He dropped his head and crashed his mouth into Lovett’s with enough force that it hurt both of them, and he would probably have been more embarrassed or at least surprised if he were more sober.

“Jesus, ow,” Lovett complained, muffled against Tommy’s lips.

As it was, he marginally adjusted, pressing a few clumsy but softer kisses to the corner of Lovett’s mouth in hasty repentance.

“I’m sorry, sorry,” he muttered, biting at Lovett’s bottom lip, but gently, because he could see Lovett’s eyes still in slits out of his peripheral vision and didn’t feel like getting head-butted. “Just shut up.”

Lovett opened his mouth, probably to loudly object, so Tommy took the opportunity to stick his tongue in there. Lovett made an outraged noise and kissed back, sucking wrathfully on Tommy’s tongue, using his teeth to get at Tommy’s mouth, making so much _noise_. It was easily the roughest kiss of Tommy’s life and he’d never gotten hard so fast in his life, especially notably for his being mostly hammered.

A hazy part of his brain registered that Lovett felt like the perfect size to be underneath Tommy. He let more of his weight drop down, relishing in the way Lovett’s body held him up. Lovett made an annoyed sound, mostly for form’s sake it seemed, because he arched up, rubbing his own hard dick up against Tommy’s belly.

Distracted, he let his grip on Lovett’s wrists loosen. He wasn’t surprised when Lovett took immediate advantage. He was a little surprised when, instead of punching Tommy in the head, Lovett’s free hands went for Tommy’s hair and grabbed a hold, jerking firmly but not enough to pull their lips apart. Just enough to make Tommy groan.

Lovett huffed out a laugh, letting his head fall back. Tommy took the opportunity to take the tendon along Lovett's neck between his teeth and worry it, straining to stay gentle when really he wanted to bite, _hard_. He was quickly coming to believe that no one deserved to get bitten more than Lovett did, but Tommy also didn’t want to fucking hurt him in a drunken stupor either, even if Lovett was annoying as shit—a silent, subtle consideration that seemed to annoy Lovett more than anything.

He wrenched Tommy’s head down, growling, “Come on, don’t be a fucking baby about it.” Urging Tommy to bite him harder, apparently.

Tommy huffed, exasperated, against the damp skin of Lovett’s neck. “You’re so fucking annoying, _christ_.”

Lovett tried to kick at him with his pinned knees. “ _I’m_ annoying? You smell like beer and you weigh a thousand pounds and all you’re doing is heavy-breathing against my neck.” He tugged on Tommy’s hair again, which felt really good, shit.

“God,” Tommy bit out, skin hot. “You never shut up.”

“We just going to dry hump until our dicks fall off or are you going to do something important any time soon?” Lovett hissed out, waspish.

Tommy dragged his hands over Lovett’s sides, rough on purpose, down to wedge them between the bed and Lovett’s ass so he was able to drag Lovett up more easily, rubbing his aching hard-on against Lovett’s, working to a clumsy but effective rhythm, gaining momentum as their hips banged against each other, not Tommy’s smoothest, but whatever.

“Ah,” Lovett groaned out, neck arching again. “Ah, that’s— _fucking_ —god, are you trying to start a fire?”

Tommy had never wanted to yell and laugh in indignation at the same time so much before.

“Shut up,” he ground out into Lovett’s neck. It was so soft in there, just behind the hinge of Lovett’s jaw. He licked, sucking on a patch of skin, hands roving over Lovett’s ass and lower back and clenching him tighter and tighter against the jerky movements of Tommy’s hips. He was almost about to come from rutting up against this guy, what was the fucking _deal_?

Abruptly, Lovett shoved at his shoulder. “God, get off me so you can get naked.” He shoved again.

Tommy lifted his head, exasperated. He went on one elbow and tried to grab Lovett’s hands but he evaded him, and then Lovett made his move—he threw all his weight at Tommy’s weak side, knocking him over.

They rolled once, twice, both fighting to be on top until they rolled right off the fucking bed.

Hitting the ground hurt. Tommy caught the brunt of their weight on his back. “Fuck,” he groaned, air forced out of his lungs.

Meanwhile, Lovett barely seemed to notice, already scrambling to his knees on the floor and yanking his shirt off, struggling out of his stupid red pants until he was just in blue boxers. He was really pale, maybe even paler than Tommy. His belly looked soft in the moonlight, a thin trail of hair disappearing into his dumb underwear.

“Off, off,” Lovett demanded, clingy fingers pulling at Tommy’s zipper.

“Stop it.” Tommy smacked his hands away. “Just let me _do it_.” He sat up halfway to shimmy out of his shorts and his boxers, getting them down around his ankles, cock slapping almost comically against his bare stomach before Lovett clambered onto his lap.

He grabbed Tommy’s head with both hands and kissed him, hard, but with what Tommy could grudgingly admit was more finesse than he himself had originally managed. Lovett’s hands were shaking slightly at the sides of Tommy’s face, but he was a good kisser, so Tommy didn’t let it distract.

Lovett kept sucking on Tommy’s lips, changing up the pressure. Tommy’s dick was aching but it was easy to forget about it for a minute, letting Lovett kiss the hell out of him.

But not for longer than a minute. Tommy needed to come yesterday, and he really wanted to make Lovett come, he realized. He wanted to see what his bratty little face looked like when he got off. His own dick jerked and his hands landed on Lovett’s ass like they were magnetized. As Lovett licked into his mouth, Tommy made a noise and started guiding Lovett in a grinding rhythm in his lap, cocks rubbing together through the thin material of Lovett’s boxers.

“Take them off,” Tommy mumbled pleadingly against Lovett’s mouth.

Lovett ignored him, clenching his knees tight at Tommy’s hips.

“Jesus,” Tommy muttered, aggrieved, since he was apparently going to get stuck doing most of the work here, like every group project he'd ever been a part of.

He stuck his hand down Lovett’s boxers, grabbing a rough squeeze of an ass cheek before nudging a fingertip into the cleft of Lovett’s ass, pressing deliberately against his asshole.

All at once Lovett reared back, dislodging Tommy’s hand.

He watched as Lovett sat back, eyes wide, round cheeks red, looking unaccountably spooked.

Tommy blinked, jarred into stillness himself. Lovett was stiff in his arms, skittish like he was waiting for Tommy to do it again. Or force him or something, fuck.

Cautiously, Tommy brought both hands to rest safely on Lovett’s hips again.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, too fucking turned on and drunk to be smooth. “We don’t—hey, we can do something else.” He wished he wasn’t breathing so loudly through his mouth. "We don't have to do anything you don't want."

Lovett didn’t answer. Tommy touched his face, still cautious, unable to get a read and feeling too slow from alcohol to finesse anything.

He got a grip on the side of Lovett’s neck. “Hey,” he said when Lovett remained frozen. Tommy was really starting to feel like an asshole; he didn’t know this guy, he shouldn't assume what he was up for. “It’s okay.” He lipped at Lovett’s chin. “Can I blow you instead?”

That seemed to snap Lovett out of it. He glowered at Tommy. “Shut up,” he snarled. At least he was talking again, which seemed more natural, for him. “You’re so goddamn irritating.”

He flopped to his side and heaved Tommy down with him by the neck. Tommy let out a drunken merry “heyyy” and fell into Lovett’s front, caging him in, forearms framing Lovett’s head.

“If anyone’s blowing anyone, I’m blowing you,” Lovett vowed, like Tommy had just insulted him.

Tommy rolled his eyes. “I mean, fine, I’m not gonna, like, fight you over a blowjob.”

In the end, no one blew anyone. In the end, things got weirdly...quiet.

As they both glared at each other, Tommy licked sloppily at his hand and stuck it down Lovett’s boxers, the front this time, grabbing his cock, which fit really nicely in his hand and he tried not to get distracted by that. It had been a while since he’d jerked someone else off and it took him a second to get over the weird mirror image sensation to get a tempo going.

He watched the head of Lovett’s dick disappear and reappear in his fist, and got lost in the sight for a while. When he glanced up, Lovett was propped up on his elbows, mouth open, watching.

Tommy faltered, closing his mouth as he swallowed. Lovett’s eyes jerked up.

Not breaking the eye contact, Tommy let go of Lovett’s cock, liking the way he gasped, to lick his hand again, getting it nice and wet. He pushed up on a hip, making their dicks brush together. Still staring at Lovett, feeling creepy but not as creepy as he could if Lovett’s eyes weren’t also glued to Tommy’s face, Tommy took them both in his hand, shivering. At the first stroke they both moaned.

Lovett grasped at Tommy’s arms to sit up further, open-mouthed, hips lifting into the feeling, rocking into Tommy’s fist.

When Tommy twisted his wrist, Lovett squirmed and threw a leg around the backs of Tommy’s thighs, hooking him closer. “Yeah,” he stuttered out, a dark flush covering most of his chest. “Fuck, _yeah_.” He swallowed, and breathed, almost hesitantly, “ _Tommy_.”

Tommy’s ears were ringing, maybe from being drunk and out of breath, he couldn’t tell.

Breathless, he pressed a kiss to Lovett’s lips that just turned into him breathing into Lovett’s mouth until he was groaning, coming hard.

He kept up the speed on Lovett’s cock, loving the sounds he was making into Tommy’s mouth, the way he was struggling to thrust up into Tommy’s hand.

He got to watch as Lovett came, body taut and arching up, face scrunched up all tight and stupid, mouth wide open, Tommy unable to look away, until Lovett finally went limp and fell to the floor.

Lovett’s head thunked against the filthy carpet, eyelids fluttering.

Tommy stayed crouched over Lovett, still shaking and trying not to collapse and crush him to death as they both caught their breath.

The lax t-shirt Lovett had tried to steal lay crumpled on the ground next to them, forgotten. Lovett looked at it, then back at Tommy, then deliberately grabbed for it and swiped at the come on his stomach.

“Oh, come on,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes.

Defiantly, Lovett silently took Tommy’s hand from where it rested on Lovett’s stomach and thoroughly wiped the come off with the shirt as well.

“You’re welcome,” he said primly when he was done, tossing the shirt away.

Tommy shook his head, chuckling helplessly, eyes crinkled shut. When he opened them, Lovett was smirking at him, pleased with himself.

They just looked at each other for a long moment, both smiles slipping slowly off their faces. Tommy looked away first. It was suddenly feeling like too much for a stupid hookup.

He felt drunker than before, as things were slowing down. He needed to go to bed.

Beneath him, Lovett pushed at his shoulder. “Move,” he demanded. Obliging, Tommy shifted to his side and Lovett wriggled free, getting to his feet.

He moved busily around the room, pulling his dumb pants back on, getting his shirt over his head. He ignored Tommy, who sat up against his bed to watch.

Lovett's shirt really was wet with beer, Tommy could see. It was going to be cold in the night air.

“You can take a different shirt, if you want,” he offered, feeling generous post-orgasm.

Lovett snorted. “I don’t want to wear your dumb frat clothing.”

Tommy made an identical mocking snort. “Unbelievable.”

Finally, Lovett looked at him. He raised an eyebrow. “Whatever.” Before Tommy could argue back, Lovett walked to the door. He paused, turned and gave Tommy a salute. “Take it easy.”

Now it was Tommy who snorted. “Uh. Okay?” He made a face. “Bye.”

Lovett looked at him and made a similar face. “Put some clothes on, you animal.”

“It’s my room.” Weirdly bashful, Tommy brought his knees together. “Stop staring at my junk.”

“I’m not!”

“You were!”

Lovett threw his hands in the air. “God!” he erupted, “Bye!” and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Tommy stared after him for a while, nonplussed. Embarrassed. He’d never had a hookup storm out like that before. It felt—not great.

He sat there until the room felt like it was spinning too much to be sitting up anymore.

He hauled himself up and into bed. Jimmy was staying at his girlfriend’s so he had the room to himself.

He curled up beneath the duvet, the sound of the party winding down downstairs a comforting hum, and purposefully didn’t think about Lovett’s mouth or his face when he came. It really was stupid. There was no reason to even think about it.

It was the last thing on his mind before he drifted off to sleep.

 

*

 

The next day he woke up naked. He immediately remembered why, but before he could dwell he had to scramble to get his underwear and go vomit in the bathroom for what he wearily assumed would not be the only time that day.

He pulled on basketball shorts and a hoodie and trudged downstairs, images from last night darting through his head like tiny, seconds-long nightmares.

Fuck, he was an idiot. What a goddamn idiot.

He was still shaking his head at himself when he came to a stop in the doorway to the kitchen.

“What the fuck,” he muttered. His voice was so hoarse.

To his eternal bewilderment, fucking Lovett was sitting in the kitchen, munching on toast he’d no doubt helped himself to from the pantry.

His entire body went uncomfortably hot.

“You’re still here,” he said dumbly.

“Good eye.” Lovett took a big bite of toast and talked as he chewed, the animal. “Super observant. Surprised you’re wasting that throbbing intellect at the business school.”

Tommy instantly felt his back go up. “Why am I automatically a business major?” Lovett arched an eyebrow, and Tommy bristled more. His head was fucking pounding. “There’s nothing wrong with majoring in business, you smug asshole. Business takes plenty of intellect.”

“Oh, definitely. Only the smartest of the Frat Idiots go to the business school. Real brain trust within those hallowed walls.”

The base of Tommy’s skull throbbed as he ground his teeth, deliberating. He was mortified to see the proof of his folly in the flesh and wanted to retreat back upstairs, but more than that he needed to get to the refrigerator and drink every liquid within it and Lovett was in the way.

Harried, he gave Lovett a wide berth and managed to yank open the fridge and take out the thing of orange juice, drinking straight from the container. He gulped it all down and tossed the empty toward the garbage. It missed and clattered onto the floor.

“What an athlete,” Lovett intoned.

“Shut up.”

Lovett was watching him, smirking. Always fucking smirking. Tommy took out the apple juice and drank from it wrathfully as he trudged over to the throw the empty OJ container successfully away.

“So what pretentious subject are you studying that’s so much better than business?” he demanded crankily. “Creative writing? Gender studies?”

Lovett shook his head. “Math.”

Nonplussed, Tommy looked at him. “Just...math? The field of math? The whole thing?”

“More or less.”

Fuck. That was actually really fucking cool. How annoying.

“Why the fuck are you still _here_?” Tommy drank more apple juice. He was feeling slightly more human, but he suspected he was just going through a hangover valley. “Did you stay here last night or something?”

“No, jesus. If I wanted to expose myself to hepatitis I’d just fall asleep in the bus shelter,” Lovett sniffed. “Me and Favs are organizing a trip to Sen. Baldwin’s office this semester for the club. It’s gonna be sick. We have a planning meeting this morning.”

That did sound moderately cool, the visit not the lame planning meeting, but Tommy didn’t have it in him to do anything but roll his eyes this morning. “Mega sick. Wicked.”

Lovett was just flicking him off as Favs came meandering into the kitchen. He looked fresh as a daisy, always more of a smoker than a drinker and thus rarely hungover, and not for the first time Tommy wondered if he wasn’t on to something truly genius.

Favs smiled at Lovett. “Lovett! Glad you could make it.” He took Tommy familiarly by the shoulders as he passed. “How you doing, Vietor? Surprised to see you up so early, man.” He shook him a few times, grinning.

“God, please stop,” Tommy begged. He clenched his jaw, refusing to vomit again already. He stepped away from Favs. “I had to get up, I have practice in a minute.”

“Let me guess,” Lovett interrupted, uninvited, tapping his chin in thought. “Ultimate frisbee?”

Tommy pursed his lips. It had been right there on the t-shirt Lovett had tried to steal last night, he didn't say, before they did...whatever. “No, lacrosse.”

Lovett snickered. “ _There_ it is.”

Fucking unbelievable. Tommy had no idea how he’d been able to ignore that long enough to get laid last night.

Favs crossed to sit down at the table and stole the last half of toast from Lovett’s plate, taking a big bite.

“Get your own,” Lovett protested.

“It is his own,” Tommy said sourly. “He’s a dues-paying member. You’re the one walking around stealing food.”

Favs craned his neck to look at Tommy. “What’s with you his morning?” He turned back to Lovett. “So, you’re on time for once. Nice work.”

Lovett grinned at Favs. It made him look a lot softer than when he’d been glaring at Tommy a second before. “It’s a once in a lifetime occurrence, so drink it in.”

They started chattering about the logistics of the Baldwin visit, whether they could swing it while she was at the home office, what contacts they should call. They were both super animated about it. Tommy rolled his eyes, even though neither of them noticed it.

He watched for a minute, mostly in the background, finishing the apple juice and trying to decide if he wanted toast, too, but not wanting to make it seem like he was copying Lovett, even though he knew that was fucking stupid.

He had lacrosse practice in like, a fucking half hour and more than five hours of studying at least after that and even his hair was hungover and yet something was still making him ornery at the prospect of leaving Favs and Lovett alone in the kitchen together, Lovett making Favs crack up over some inside joke (and how the fuck much had these two been hanging out over the summer that they had this many inside jokes, like honestly) and then beaming at him in that infuriating self-satisfied way.

“Alright, well,” he said during a short lull in their fucking banter. “I’m gonna go get ready.”

Tilting his head back, Favs waved. “Go kick some ass, bro.”

“Yeah, bro, go lax it up,” Lovett chirped, pitching his voice low, mocking.

Tommy waited until he was trudging back upstairs to roll his eyes, which he thought was pretty mature of him.

He yanked on clothes and left out of the back door so he could avoid the kitchen.

Practice was a fucking slog but Tommy made himself push through it, running hard, going until his muscles were burning and he felt like he’d made amends for going so hard the night before.

And even if was just a club league, he felt obligated to pick it the fuck up so the younger guys were motivated to put in the effort. By the time he trudged off the field he was exhausted but not as hungover as earlier, sweaty and pleasantly sore.

He was even almost in a good mood as he walked back to the house, energized to buckle down with homework, maybe hit the library in an hour or two.

So of course as he was carrying his gear bag inside he walked into Lovett again as he was on his way out.

They banged elbows, Lovett jerking back. “Oh my _god_ , look down when you walk! Short people exist!”

“Why,” Tommy said flatly. “Why are you still _here_.”

Lovett raised both eyebrows. “Well, Tommy, it feels a little soon but I feel safe with you so I’ll say it.” He took a big, dramatic breath. “I’m in love with you, and I couldn't stand to stay away.” He put his hand on Tommy’s forearm where he was grasping the nylon of his gear bag.

Tommy rolled his eyes, ignoring the way the back of his neck felt hot, and shook off Lovett’s hand, ignoring his stupid cackle. “Jesus, go away.”

Lovett stepped forward, eyes imploring, still snickering. “Please, Tommy. We could be happy together, I swear. Me, and you, and your stupid eyebrows.”

Automatically, Tommy brought a hand up to cover his eyebrow. “Fuck you, what’s wrong with my eyebrows?”

“A lot,” Lovett assured him solemnly, “a lot is wrong with your eyebrows.” He stepped around Tommy and started down the walkway without a backward glance. He threw a dorky peace sign over his shoulder. “Catch you later, loser.”

Fucking christ, Tommy hoped not. He flicked off Lovett’s back, didn’t check out his ass as he walked away and went inside, good mood from earlier mostly deflated.

He stomped upstairs and threw himself on the bed. He had too much to do to nap and it would just give him anxiety to throw his schedule out of whack any more, but after dealing with Lovett he felt like he deserved a solid hangover nap first.

He thought of the sneer on Lovett’s face at the front door when he’d been making fun of Tommy. _I’m in love with you._ What a prick.

Tommy fell asleep with a frown on his face.

He woke up with it too. Shit.

 

*

 

Over the next few weeks, Favs became more and more involved in the College Democrats, which was fine, good for him.

What was less fine and less good was that Lovett seemed to be spending all of his time at the house and it was fucking unbearable.

The Monday after the party (the party where Tommy jerked Lovett and himself off until they both came all over each other, his brain always helpfully supplied every time anything even vaguely reminded him of it, in case Tommy forgot, like Tommy could ever _forget_ ), he came downstairs looking for Favs to go over some dumb but important shit for the house, already calling down, “Yo, Favs, I have the thing for the fundraiser, did you get the other thing—” and stopped mid-sentence in the living room.

Favs and fucking Lovett lifted their heads in tandem, like his best friend had fused with an obnoxious little monster he couldn’t stand and also had had a weird sex dream about the night before.

“You’re here,” he said stiffly to Lovett.

Lovett’s mouth quirked. “You are frighteningly astute.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. God. Who talked like that?

“What did you need, Tommy?” Favs asked pleasantly.

“Um.” Tommy honestly couldn’t remember, thrown off by Lovett once again intruding on his space. He glanced down at his hand and saw the spreadsheet he was holding. “Oh, yeah, the—you know, the alumni fundraiser? I have the numbers, if you wanted to go over the budget?”

Favs made a face. “Yikes.”

Tommy could sympathize. “I know, but Dan called me yesterday and we owe them an estimate for expenses.”

Groaning, Favs let his head drop back against the couch. “Fuck, I hate this shit.”

“Aren’t you like, vice-king of all this bullshit?” Lovett asked.

Favs laughed, strained. “Yeah. Vice-president, but close enough.”

Lovett cocked his head. “Why did you run for frat office or whatever if you hate it?”

“I don’t hate it,” Favs argued, still smiling.

He didn’t hate all of it, Tommy knew. He was pretty good at a lot of it, and the parts he didn’t like Tommy could take care of, so it worked, most of the time. Not that Tommy thought that was any of Lovett’s business, and he would have snapped that at him if Favs wasn’t right there, grinning fondly at Lovett’s massive eye roll

“So—you got a minute?” Tommy cut in, exasperated.

Favs sighed. “Can it wait?” he asked. “Me and Lovett are just finishing up some notes from the meeting, we need to send them through for the recap.”

Tommy ground his teeth. It couldn’t wait, not really. He couldn’t technically submit it if Favs didn’t sign off on the breakdown to make sure the numbers added up. Five years ago some dipshit had made an arithmetic error that had cost the organization five grand, so the alumni committee were fucking assholes to Tommy about reviewing now even though he’d never made a similar error during his entire two-year tenure as Treasurer.

But he also knew if Favs didn’t go over it with him now, it would just sit in Tommy’s head nagging at him until he caved and finished it tonight by himself so he could be sure they would send it through to the alumni committee on deadline.

He opened his mouth to tell Favs no, they needed to take care of this _now_

Lovett was watching him. He had this look on his face, like he thought Tommy was funny or some shit, as he sat proprietarily on the frat couch like he owned it, like he belonged here. Just because Favs liked him for some reason. Favs liked everyone; Lovett wasn’t special.

Tommy closed his mouth. “Sure, whatever man.” He stuck the spreadsheet under his arm, sighing. “I’ll just—whatever, it’s fine.”

As he turned to go, Lovett cut in. “When’s it due?”

“Tomorrow,” Tommy grumbled. Whatever. He’d just do his reading for his supply chain management tomorrow before class. It wasn’t a big deal.

“Give it.” Lovett held out his hand. When Tommy just looked at him, he snapped his fingers obnoxiously. “Come on, give it to me. I think I can double check an excel sheet, come on.”

“What? No.”

“Is it classified frat business or something? Does it include tallies of all the Jews you’re discriminating against to keep them from rushing?”

Tommy rolled his eyes again. He couldn’t seem to stop when Lovett was around. “What the fuck. Caleb and Drew and Jones are all Jewish.”

Lovett looked unimpressed. “Those sound like made-up names.”

Before Tommy could really go off, Favs laughed, elbowing Lovett. “Oh my god, stop. You met like two of those guys the other night, stop being an ass.”

Lovett blinked, argumentative moue falling off his face to grin at Favs. He was always grinning at Favs. “Maybe I was sent undercover by AEPi as a mole to reveal the truth.”

Tommy was sidling away when Favs caught him. “Hey, man, why don’t you let him see it?”

Caught out, Tommy couldn’t really think of a reason not to. If he went over it by himself, it would take him hours. He never made a fucking accounting mistake but it was mostly by virtue of mind-numbing repetitive review, not because he was any good at finance.

Sighing like he was truly suffering, which he was, he trudged to the couch and slapped the rolled-up spreadsheet into Lovett’s hand with more force than necessary and collapsed down, overbalancing the cushion so Lovett knocked into Favs.

“Jesus.” Lovett straightened. “You’re welcome for helping you.”

“I didn’t _ask_ you to help me,” Tommy corrected.

They held each other’s gaze, glaring, even as Tommy felt a familiar zing run up his back. He saw Lovett’s eyes dart down to Tommy’s mouth and he had to clench his jaw not to leer in triumph.

“I’m getting a snack while you guys figure out how to stop being dicks,” Favs said into the sudden silence. He clapped Lovett on the knee and stood up. “We all good with pizza?”

He left them on the couch, humming as he sauntered into the kitchen.

They faced off for another breath or so until with a sigh Lovett leaned his elbows on his knees and began scanning the spreadsheet.

Tommy tried to focus on looking over his shoulder but was mostly peeked at the way the collar on Lovett’s stupid worn-out graphic t-shirt hung so loosely over his collarbone.

Surprisingly, Lovett was mostly quiet as he reviewed. He chewed on his lip, his whole face furrowed as he concentrated. He grabbed a pen and made a mark in a column.

“I think you typed this number in wrong—the addition’s correct but I don’t think you’re going to be spending only thirty bucks on the silent auction.”

Shit, that sounded right. “Fuck. You’re right, I dropped a zero.” That would have taken him all night to catch. “Um. Thanks.”

Lovett’s head came up. He smiled crookedly. “Damn. Listen to you, so polite. You sound like Favs.”

“I can be polite, too,” Tommy argued, a little stung. He was usually so polite the other guys made fun of him. It wasn’t his fault Lovett brought out the literal worst in him. “Thanks. For helping me out, I mean.” 

“Whatever.” Unfathomably, Lovett ducked his head, almost bashful. “You just looked like a sad Victorian doll, it was a weak moment.”

Tommy reached out and shoved Lovett’s head away, Lovett squawking and bouncing back. His hair curled around his ears. Tommy couldn’t stop staring at it.

“Stop it,” Lovett said, scowling. “I’m concentrating, you bully.”

Tommy didn’t know what made him escalate.

One second he was watching Lovett capably scan the columns and mumble under his breath, reluctantly impressed, and the next—

“What are you doing?” Lovett asked sharply.

Tommy swallowed, his thumb tracing the bare skin at the base of Lovett's neck just above his t-shirt. “Nothing.” He dragged the pad in a slow arc, tracking the way Lovett froze. “Stop getting distracted,” he taunted, pressing his thumb in hard for a second on the side against Lovett’s pulse. “Focus.”

He saw Lovett open his mouth and Tommy cut him off by dragging the tips of his fingers along the curve of Lovett’s shoulder, bringing his hand up to cup the back of Lovett’s warm neck. He squeezed firmly like you would with the scruff of an overeager dog.

He heard Lovett’s sharp intake of breath. “This is the opposite of helping someone focus.”

Tommy’s mouth curved, mocking. “I thought you were supposed to be the math genius.”

“Far from a genius,” Lovett muttered. His eyes were fluttering, half-shut. “I’m like, the dumbest at math in the program.”

He waited to see if Lovett was being falsely modest, holding for the inevitable joke, but Lovett didn’t add anything else. He tipped his head back, pressing into Tommy’s hand, like he just enjoyed the contact, even if it was from Tommy.

He must be hard up, Tommy figured, to put up with Tommy pawing him in the living room.

He rubbed his thumb along the prickly edge of Lovett’s hairline, scritching lightly at his scalp before slipping the rest of his hand down beneath Lovett’s collar. He felt Lovett’s shoulders hitch.

Still not quite sure why he was doing this, unable to stop, Tommy leaned in to brush his nose against Lovett’s temple.

“It’s so easy to get in your head,” he muttered, trying to sound disdainful.

“Weirdo,” Lovett muttered. His chest was rising and falling a little faster.

“Shut up.” Tommy pressed closer, breathing in. Lovett smelled like deodorant and generic powder laundry detergent. It wasn’t even that good. He spread his hand wider, getting a stronger grip on Lovett’s neck, pulling him in closer.

“Hey, I have beer—is it too early?” Favs called from the kitchen.

Tommy jerked away. Favs could have walked right in on them and Tommy would have had no fucking idea.

“Yo!” Favs yelled again, when no one answered right away. “Anyone want?”

Lovett turned to Tommy, eyes fluttering open. His cheeks were red.

“Uh, no,” Tommy called back, still staring at Lovett. “I’m good, dude.”

“Bring me two beers, I’ll have Tommy’s,” Lovett countered in a louder voice, arching an eyebrow, daring Tommy to say something.

He sputtered, shaking his head, and pulled his hand away, letting it drag slower than he needed to over Lovett’s neck, his shoulder, down over his arm, before disconnecting. He watched Lovett willfully suppress a shudder, never breaking eye contact with Tommy.

Favs came ambling back in then, three beer bottles in one hand, a bag of chips in the other. “Pizza’s in the oven.” He sat down on Lovett’s other side. “You have any luck with those numbers?”

“He keeps getting distracted,” Tommy piped up as Lovett opened his mouth to make some sort of excuse.

Lovett’s head whipped around, outraged. “What the fuck! I’m almost done, I wasn’t getting _distracted_.”

Favs was laughing at him, and Tommy leaned against the opposite couch arm, watching Lovett get worked up. It was so easy. Favs shot him an amused look over Lovett’s shoulder, and Tommy had to catch himself at the last minute before returning a similarly fond smirk, instead pulling out his phone to dick around while Lovett settled back into the spreadsheet, grumbling under his breath.

Tommy drifted until he felt a tap on his ankle. He looked out of the corner of his eye and saw Lovett dragging the toe of his dumb sneakers up Tommy’s ankle, nudging tauntingly.

Lovett looked up and caught his eye, smirking.

Brusquely, Tommy got to his feet, restless. “Go home, Lovett,” he said irritably over his shoulder as he left the living room, skin buzzing.

“Be nice, Tommy!” Favs called after him, laughter in his voice.

Lovett joined in, of course. “Yeah, _Tommy_! Be _nice_!”

Tommy stalked out, the sound of Favs and Lovett laughing at him carrying over his shoulder, feeling uncomfortably as though he’d gotten chased out of his own living room.

Upstairs, he couldn’t focus on any of his econ reading until he took a shower and jerked off. He didn’t think about Lovett specifically. Mostly he thought about trying to fuck someone who kept sniping at him and squirming and winding Tommy up, which could have been anyone, really.

He woke up the next morning to the spreadsheet slid neatly under his door, a few markings in a messy handwriting pointing out errors, and a carefully rendered scribble of a penis in the corner.

Tommy rolled his eyes as he picked it up, and refused to smile or unfurrow his brow as he went to his computer to correct his earlier mistakes.

 

*

 

So Lovett was around a lot. It wasn’t a big deal.

Mostly it was manageably annoying. Lovett was just so _loud_ , all the time. If he was in the house, Tommy was always Aware.

And yeah, sometimes he was funny and he would startle a laugh out of Tommy when he was lurking in the corners, not hanging out with them directly (but it was his house too and if he wanted to do his homework in the lounge area while Lovett and Favs were huddled over some dorky powerpoint for the Young Democrats it was whatever, it was _common space_ ) but close enough to overhear.  

He would see Lovett twitch, not glancing over at Tommy, but his dumb smug smirk would widen ever so slightly, and Tommy couldn’t help but duck his head, back of his neck red, discomfited for no reason he could identify.

The other half of it was that despite the fact that Lovett was demonstrably one of the most obnoxious people Tommy had ever met, he also couldn’t stop hooking up with him. It was insanity.

Whenever Lovett was over (literally always, it seemed, or at the very least two or three times a week), with Favs in the kitchen or the living room or coming in the front door as Tommy was leaving for class or practice, he sometimes had to dig his nails into his palm to keep from reaching out and stroking the back of Lovett’s hand, quick and away before anyone else but Lovett would notice.

He couldn’t always resist, either. He told himself it was because it was funny to see him jerk and send Tommy a bewildered glare over his shoulder, Favs chattering obliviously at his side.

It was fine. Tommy just had to get a fucking hold of himself. It was all fine.

Or so he thought, until the third time he walked in on Lovett raiding the house fridge and Tommy had a miniature meltdown.

“Stop eating our shit!” he yelled, slamming the door closed. “We have a budget, you can’t just come shopping here, asshole.”

Lovett raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Your face gets really red when you’re angry. It’s not hot.” He gave Tommy’s chest a long, appraising look. “You’re not that hot.”

Tommy felt his nostrils flare as he took the bait.

He muscled Lovett into the pantry, doing a quick calculation of who might be home, who had class, and decided they had ten minutes, maybe fifteen if Will’s lecture let out late. More than enough time, really, for what he needed.

He pulled the door shut behind them and pushed Lovett into the back shelf, relishing the exaggerated ‘oof’ sound he made.

“You’re such a dick,” Lovett sniped out, digging his nails into Tommy’s side.

“Ow! Stop, don’t claw at me, jesus,” Tommy snapped back, grabbing Lovett’s wrists and squeezing until Lovett relented, gripping hard at his waist instead. “Let me do it.”

“Then do it!”

“I am!”

Lovett relented, grudgingly, and Tommy, appeased, cupped his face, tilting Lovett’s head up with a jerk so it was easier to kiss him.

They were on the clock, he had to remind himself, even as he got a little lost for a moment. Lovett just tasted really good, weirdly so. His tongue, or his—spit, christ, Tommy didn’t know, he just couldn’t stop going deeper, pressing Lovett’s mouth open wider with a thumb at the corner, his own shoulders hunched over, trying to dive deeper.

“Christ,” Lovett whimpered when Tommy finally drew back to catch his breath, biting at his neck. His hands fluttered at Tommy’s side before settling at his elbows, clutching on as Tommy felt him wobble a little. He made an irritated sound, letting go of Lovett’s face to grab his hips and hold him steady.

“You’re always here,” Tommy muttered, because that was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it, “why are you always _here_?”

Lovett threw his head back, laughing breathlessly. “God, you’re obsessed with me.”

Tommy bit punishingly at his throat. Lovett made a wet sound, lighting Tommy up. He pulled back to see the glazed look on Lovett’s face, even as the little shit still managed to look so self-satisfied. Fuck, Tommy wished he was drunk, at least enough to distract him from the way Lovett clutched at his waist, hips hitching forward, pink tongue visible as he panted, peering up at Tommy with his wide, dark eyes.

As it was, there was no excuse for how he was ready to nut in what felt like no time at all.

He gritted his teeth. “Fuck.” He urged Lovett forward, helping him ride Tommy’s thigh. “ _Fuck_ , Lovett.” He kissed Lovett, his plush bottom lip. He wanted to bite at it but found himself sucking at it instead, weirdly gentle, licking at his soft mouth.

Lovett whined in his throat impatiently, scrabbling at the waistband of Tommy’s basketball shorts.

Tommy batted his hands away, pressing his mouth to the base of Lovett’s neck as Lovett rode him a little harder, like he was really into the way his dick was pressing at the cut of Tommy’s hip. For a moment Tommy grabbed him by the hips, slowing down the rhythm, hearing the hitch in Lovett's breath, until he caught himself and couldn't say why he was dragging this out.

Irked, he reached inside his shorts and started jerking himself off, hissing out, “ _Fuck_ ,” when Lovett’s hips knocked into his hand as he humped Tommy’s leg, making little noises right into Tommy’s ear.

He mouthed at the skin high on Tommy’s throat, gasped and bit down firmly as he came. Tommy jerked, looping his free arm tight around Lovett’s waist to press him tight as he rode it out.

He felt Lovett’s hot gaze on him as his wrist sped up, stripping himself a half dozen more times until his cock juddered, come shooting everywhere, a fucking mess. His hand and shirt were covered, not a single drop on Lovett, of course. He looked at Lovett, indignant, whose lip curled as he pulled away.

“Good luck with that,” Lovett said. He yanked up his jeans, redoing the buttons diffidently.

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Come on, at least let me use your shirt.”

“Why _my_ shirt?”

“Because it’s a terrible shirt!”

“Your _face_ is a terrible shirt!”

Against his will Tommy barked out a laugh, watching Lovett grin, triumphant, as he pushed open the door to the pantry.

Tommy watched him flounce out, eyes on his ass and no longer attempting to convince himself otherwise until it was him and his come-covered hand alone in the pantry, near all the food, fucking disgusting.

Sighing, pulled off his shirt to mop himself off a left the pantry just Will came in, spotting Tommy balling the shirt up in his hand.

Will paused in the doorway, looking up from a pile of papers he was holding in his hand. “Dude?” He cocked his head, looking at Tommy standing shirtless, caught out. “You good?”

Tommy held up the balled-up shirt sheepishly. “Spilled all over myself,” he said. Not a lie.

He hurried out of the kitchen before Will could ask any more questions.

He was taking the stairs two at a time to get upstairs and change so he could at least salvage the afternoon, hit the library, get some reading done, so of course ran into Favs on his way up.

Favs raised his eyebrows. “Bro?” He gestured at Tommy’s bare chest.

Tommy rolled his eyes, wondering when a house full of bros got so skittish about going shirtless for a hot minute. “I just made a mess in the kitchen. Going to change.”

“Okay, well.” Favs peered over his shoulder. “Did you see Lovett down there? We were supposed to meet up.”

Tommy felt his mouth flatten into a line, jumpy from the come-down adrenaline and annoyed, as usual, at Favs’ constant mentioning of Lovett.

“No,” he said shortly. “Didn’t see him.”

“That’s weird,” Favs said thoughtfully. He hummed, then seemed to take in Tommy more thoroughly. “You okay? You’re all sweaty.”

“I’m fine, jesus.”

That got him a raised eyebrow. “And cranky. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing! Just—go find Lovett, I’m sure he’ll be around soon. Might as well make the guy an honorary brother.”

Tommy edged his way around Favs, eager to get to his room, not loving the shrewd look crossing Favs’ face.

“You want to hang out later? Maybe get drunk?” He also didn't love the pointed gentleness in his tone.

Tommy shrugged, moody. He had tons of work to get done, and he had an early class tomorrow. So what if Favs wanted to hang out with Lovett more these days than with Tommy.

“Or we can watch the game," Favs said, coaxingly. "We can take over the TV room. Exec board privilege.”

That sounded really cool, actually. “Yeah, okay.” Tommy felt stretched thin, and it was barely halfway through the semester. And he really did barely see Favs anymore, not on his own.

Favs clapped him on the shoulder. “And we can go out this weekend, maybe. You need to get laid. You’re like, all wound up.”

“Fuck you, no I’m not.” Or at least not from not getting laid, he didn’t say, and when Favs raised his eyebrow, he shrugged again. “Whatever.”

As he made it to his room, he reasoned that maybe he did need to get it out of his system. Just fuck someone else.

That would probably do the trick.

 

*

 

It did not, as it turned out, do the trick, because it didn’t happen, because Favs brought fucking Lovett to the bar.

“Bro,” Tommy said, beleaguered, when he spotted Lovett weaving his way through the crowd toward their table. It wasn’t like it was an intimate gathering, with five other brothers and a bunch of girls and some other dudes Tommy vaguely recognized in the booth with them, but still. “Why him, man.”

“You need to get to know him,” Favs insisted. “He’s really great. You’d really like him.” He held up a hand, waving for Lovett, whose face brightened and darkened in quick succession when he saw Favs and then clocked Tommy. It would have been funny if Tommy felt like laughing.

How the fuck was he supposed to focus on pulling someone else when Lovett was there?

Lovett shoved into the booth on Tommy’s left, definitely harder than he needed to, lifting his chin like he was daring Tommy to say something about it.

He didn’t, taking a deep gulp of his beer. At his side, Lovett leaned across him to hold out a fist to bump against Favs’.

“Hey, man,” he said. “So is this where the straight people hang?” He glanced around, grimacing. “Shit’s bleak.”

Tommy scowled. K Klub was a dive but the beer was cheap, and leave it to Lovett to find something to complain about everywhere. Such a diva.

Favs was laughing. “God, shut up.”

Rolling his eyes, Tommy pulled the pitcher closer to pour out a cup and slide it Lovett’s way. Lovett blinked. “Oh. Thanks.” He didn’t need to sound so surprised, the dick.

“Maybe if you drink more you’ll stop whining,” Tommy offered, smiling sharply at him.

Under the table, he felt Lovett kick at Tommy’s shin. He kicked back, keeping the smile on his face.

Favs got Tommy’s attention eventually and started talking to him about frat stuff, and then a few guys cut in, and Lovett said something mean but hilarious and everyone cracked up, even Tommy, grudgingly.

Lovett kept leaning over Tommy to get Favs’ attention, or to say something biting and clever to someone else, pressing unnecessarily close. Tommy drank more, working to ignore him, but it was nearly impossible, especially when Lovett kept glancing at him, challenging, obviously aware of how pushy he was being, daring Tommy to react.

The more he drank, the easier it was to let it wash over him, Lovett loud and interrupting the conversation at intervals, warm against Tommy’s side. He kept spilling beer and insisting Tommy was doing it, making Favs laugh, making everyone at the table laugh, really, even the brothers who still looked largely mystified by his presence.

“Move, I have to piss,” Tommy said after a while, ducking low to speak into Lovett’s ear.

Lovett flinched, just barely. “God, go the other way.”

“Just move, you’re on the end,” Tommy insisted, and reached to shove him out, hand on his waist.

“Fuck, stop it,” Lovett complained but went with the momentum, swaying slightly on his feet as he stood up.

Tommy caught him as he got out of the booth, hand at Lovett's back pressing in until he steadied and then jerked away. “So annoying,” Lovett muttered, shaking his head. He was all red, from drinking and yelling to be heard, Tommy assumed, as he rolled his eyes and took his hand away, striding to the bathroom.

A short dark-haired girl was staring at him from the bar, grinning slowly when Tommy met her eye. On his way back from the bathroom, he spotted a taller dude in a corner booth who kept glancing over at him, too. So he had options, at least. That was good.

Except when he swung by the bar to get another drink, Lovett was already there, back to Tommy, arguing with some incredibly handsome blond guy that Tommy immediately disliked the look of. Sometimes it was just one of those intinct things. Who could say why.

“You’re wrong, oh my god, you’re so wrong, I barely have the energy to tell you how wrong you are,” Lovett was saying, waving a hand in front of his face. The guy was laughing at him. “ _Barely_. But I do! So, lucky you.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, elbow on the bar as he tried to get the bartender’s attention.

Lovett made an exaggerated hand motion and managed to reach back and smack Tommy in the side of the head, knocking his snapback off-kilter.

“Jesus, be careful,” Tommy barked, straightening the flat bill where it had gone crooked.

Lovett whirled around, mid-joke, and took Tommy in. His eyes narrowed. Behind him, the blond guy was watching them both, slightly wary.

“ _You_ be careful!” Lovett snapped. “God, stop knocking into me! You’re like a shark, always bumping into me, stop it!” He shoved hard at Tommy’s shoulder.

“Is everything okay?” the blond guy asked.

Tommy met his eye, weary. He felt like the guy deserved to know what he was getting into if he was trying to pull Lovett. “We know each other,” he said.

Lovett shoved him again. “We do _not_ , we are barely acquaintances, and that doesn’t make it okay for you to bully me,” he fumed.

“You knocked into _me_! You hit me in the head!”

“Don’t gaslight me, I know what happened. I know your game.”

As Lovett raved, Tommy rolled his eyes again, half-listening as the bartender made her way over.

“Miller lite for him, brandy old-fashioned for me,” he said. “I’ve got a tab open.” He spelled his name and turned to see Lovett glaring at him.

“Brandy old-fashioned?” he mimicked and made a gagging noise.

“Shut up, it’s good. It’s a Wisconsin drink. It’s classic.”

“You’re a thousand years old.”

Tommy handed Lovett his beer by the bottleneck, stepping back so the person behind him could step up the bar. He held an arm out to guide Lovett away too.

“Stop herding me,” Lovett groused. “I’m not going back, I’m talking to—” but when he looked over his shoulder, the handsome blond guy was gone. Tommy noted this with some satisfaction. Good. Lovett was being a dick, he shouldn’t be rewarded for that. No more than he already was. “What the hell.” Lovett planted his feet to point angrily at Tommy. “This is your fault.”

“Oh my god, move, we’re blocking the bar. You can yell at me back at the booth.”

“Don’t think I won’t,” Lovett warned, and let Tommy guide him away this time.

Tommy’s free hand rested on Lovett’s back, just because it was getting crowded and Lovett was mostly drunk and unbalanced. The last thing he wanted was for Lovett to get knocked over and then Tommy would have to help him up and it would be a whole thing. Better to keep a hold on him now. He was very aware Lovett didn’t shake him off.

At the booth, Favs leaned in. “Hey, Lovett, where’d that dude you were talking to go? He seemed up for it.”

“Tommy scared him away.” Lovett slid into the booth, looking mutinous. “It was very homophobic, frankly.” He took an angry drink of his beer.

Tommy sat down on the end this time and forced Lovett to shove over. “It’s not my fault you can’t close, dude. You got distracted. That’s on you, take the L.”

“Don’t fucking talk sports to me, I swear to god.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous, that’s not sports talk!” Tommy chuckled, amused despite himself. He looked up and saw Favs had drifted into a different conversation now with a very pretty girl who had, typically, materialized out of nowhere. She was not at his other side, listening to him very intently.

When he turned back to Lovett he saw him watching Favs too. He wasn’t frowning, but there was a hard light in his eye. He seemed to shake himself and turn deliberately to Tommy. Whatever look was on his face had smoothed out, but Tommy knew he’d seen it.

Lovett reached up and flicked at Tommy's hat on his forehead. Tommy swatted him away. “Stop it,” he complained.

“You look stupid,” Lovett said, shaking his head.

Tommy hunched his shoulders, defensive. “What? I look fine. Shut up.” He glanced down, trying to figure out what he had on that was so objectionable. Just a button up, rolled up at the arms because it was hot in here, and one of his nicer pairs of pastel shorts. “ _What_?”

Lovett reached around to yank on the bill at Tommy’s neck this time, eyes narrowed.

Tommy grabbed his wrist and pulled it away, holding it down against his leg under the table, ignoring Lovett trying to pull free.

The room was sliding in Tommy’s vision, booze having already firmly gone to his head. Lovett looked mad but he wasn’t moving away, more content to struggle in Tommy’s grip. Tommy liked the feel of him tugging against his grip, not really trying to escape, just showing that he could if he wanted to.

The bar was loud and the people around them were yelling in their own conversations but the air between Tommy and Lovett felt like its own little bubble.

“You look like a courtroom artist’s rendering of a college date rapist,” Lovett spit out.

Shit. That was—Tommy felt his eyebrows draw together. “Lovett,” he chided. That was mean, even for him. “What the hell?” He was still holding Lovett’s wrist, probably too tight. He loosened his grip and some sudden inkling made him ask, voice lowered, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Lovett said. A little shrill. “You just look like a caricature.”

Tommy glanced at Lovett’s nerdy Darwin shirt pointedly. “Strong words.”

Lovett kicked at Tommy under the table. In a strange reversal, Tommy felt himself calming, fully aware that Lovett was in a bad mood and was pushing for a rise out of him and for once not willing to meet him there.

“Fuck you.” Lovett was still squirming, relentless.

If Lovett were anyone else, Tommy would try to figure out what the fuck was wrong with him. Why he was so wound up.

But despite whatever they’d been doing, Tommy still couldn’t read him. Favs probably could, but he was busy picking up, all his focus on the cute girl beside him across the table. Tommy was on his own, which was daunting, but his natural competitiveness wouldn’t let him admit he might be out of his depth.

As a stopgap, he decided to cede some ground and be the target for Lovett’s frustration for now and hopefully distract him enough to forestall whatever eruption was on the horizon.

He leaned in, pulling on Lovett’s wrist to whisper in his ear, harsh, “If I look so bad, then go find someone else to annoy. I’m leaving now, and you can either stick around here and keep being an asshole, or you can come with me and suck my dick later, it’s up to you.”

Lovett sucked in a breath, outraged. Tommy was pretty sure he’d pushed too far, but it felt like an experiment. Testing the limits. For science.

He didn’t smile when Lovett shot to his feet with angry intent, but it was a near thing.

“I’m leaving,” he said, voice raised to carry. No one else seemed to notice except for Favs, who called out, “Wait, already? It’s barely midnight!”

Lovett didn’t look at him, still glaring daggers at Tommy, before whirling and stomping away.

It took Tommy a second to realize he was meant to follow, and then he was scrambling out of the booth. “Fuck, I have a test,” he said, slurred and performative. He grabbed his jacket. “I need to go—study, fuck. Totally forgot.”

“Shit,” Favs said. He sounded concerned. “That sucks, can you email the prof? Ask for an extension?”

Tommy was shaking his head. “No, it’s okay. If I go home now, I’ll have enough time to—cram, probably.” He waved, already walking backward toward the exit. “Later. Have a good night.” He nodded at the girl at Favs’ side, and Favs smiled, bashful.

Tommy hurried outside and for about two minutes he was almost sure Lovett had given him the slip.

He finally found him standing stiffly on the corner, messing with his phone. He looked up when Tommy reached him. His hair was a mess, like he’d been running his hands through it.

“I don’t want to hook up in your fucking frat house,” Lovett said.

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Okay.”

“I live near here. Let’s go to my place.”

“Okay,” Tommy repeated, surprised, but also morbidly curious to see where Lovett lived.

“God, stop saying that, you sound so dumb,” Lovett groaned, and set off without waiting for Tommy. Luckily, he was short so Tommy caught up easily.

It was chilly out, and when he looked down he saw Lovett’s shoulder hunch. He was only wearing the thin stupid t-shirt. It was nearly November, he didn’t know what Lovett was thinking.

He had a feeling Lovett would flip out if he offered him his jacket so instead he kept close, their shoulders brushing, waiting on Lovett to complain at being crowded, but he didn’t.

They walked in silence, Lovett occasionally pulling out his phone to text. Tommy’s head cleared a bit as they walked, crisp air making things a little more real than they’d been in the crowded bar. It was harder to categorize this as a heat-of-the-moment thing. He didn’t want to go back to the bar and find someone else though. It seemed like a lot of work, plus Lovett looked hot when he was mad, and also, Tommy felt a strange, unexpected duty to figure out why he was so mad in the first place.

To his surprise, Lovett’s place wasn’t so far from the frat, up on Gorham before the park.

His apartment was at the top of a tiny three-flat, the entire thing roughly the size of the frat’s kitchen. Inside, a guy in a slouchy hat that was too warm for the season was lounging on the couch next to a girl with sharp, impeccable eyeliner. They eyed Lovett as he stomped in, taking in Tommy behind him without much warmth.

“Hey,” Tommy said, waving stiltedly.

The girl ignored him and asked Lovett, “Hey, how was it?” She looked concerned, which mildly alarmed Tommy. What was going on with Lovett that his hipster roommate would look worried about him?

“It was great,” Lovett replied flatly. “Night.” He grabbed Tommy by the elbow and towed him across the living room into one of the bedrooms, nodding at the girl and guy on the couch as they passed.

Lovett’s room was messy as shit, which seemed fitting. Tommy stood awkwardly as Lovett shoved the door closed and went to sit cross-legged on his bed. He was watching Tommy, guarded. Tommy wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, or what he expected Tommy to do.

“So this is where the magic happens,” Tommy said, smiling, shooting for smooth.

Lovett rolled his eyes. “Yep. Real den of iniquity. You should feel pretty good, seeing within these mysterious confines.”

This was new, just looking at Lovett, no rush yet. Not feeling pushed to the point of sexy violence by his smartass comments, at least not yet.

Exhaling gustily, Tommy took his hat off, holding it by the brim and stacking his hands on his head, stretching idly to the side. The muscles over his ribs pulled pleasantly, still sore from practice earlier. It was an unconscious habit but Lovett was watching him with narrowed eyes.

“Stop that,” he said. He waved at Tommy’s body. “With your—stop.”

Tommy huffed out a laugh. “Stop what? Existing in my corporeal form?”

Lovett wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, don’t talk about your corporeal form.”

Grinning, Tommy dropped his arms, shoving his hat back on backwards. He took a step further into the room, his skin suddenly buzzing. Lovett looked small on the bed.

“Quit it.” Lovett crossed his arms. “Stop looming everywhere.”

It sounded like the opposite of what he wanted, though, so Tommy came closer, not stopping until he had his knees on the bed on either side of Lovett’s hips and Lovett was forced to lean back onto his elbows.

He was still glaring, ready for a fight, but for once Tommy didn’t feel like it. He was staring at his mouth, red and kind of puffy, and the next minute he was kissing him, a little sloppy from being kind of drunk, but good. So good.

He slid his mouth down Lovett’s throat, smiling when Lovett inhaled sharply, and pulled on Lovett’s collar for better access, using his teeth a little, just as much as he was coming to know Lovett liked. It was wild to think about, that he knew some of Lovett’s preferences, that this was a regular enough thing that Tommy knew he liked the edge of biting, just a hint of it.

He felt Lovett getting hard against him, and his own dick was chubbing up pretty fast, and things were going pretty well, so he was caught off guard when Lovett asked, out of fucking nowhere, “So why did you and your girlfriend break up?”

It was so bizarre that for a second Tommy had trouble placing the question. He hummed, mouth still pressed to Lovett’s neck, not really sure he understood but definitely not wanting to talk about it.

Lovett seemed happy to clarify. “Favs said you and your girlfriend broke up out of nowhere this summer. Why did you break up? Did you cheat on her?”

Traditionally, this kind of brazen meddling would piss Tommy off immediately, but he was on the path to getting laid and Lovett kept clenching and unclenching his fist in the duvet at his side, and his voice was all thready. Tommy felt unaccountably—indulgent, toward him. For some stupid reason.

Mouth quirking, he set his teeth firmly at Lovett’s neck before pulling away. “Are you trying to kill the mood?”

“Ohh, ‘the mood,’ I didn’t know you were attempting to seduce me.”

Tommy pressed his hips forward, boner nudging into Lovett’s hip. “Uh, yeah? That’s kind of the point, here?”

“I’m just saying, I’ve had your dick in my mouth how many times, I feel like I don’t even know you.”

That made Tommy sit up. “Really? You want to get to know me?”

“No,” Lovett said quickly, glancing away. “Definitely not. That’s not what I was saying.”

It had never really occurred to him that Lovett might want to know things about him. Most of the time Lovett couldn’t seem to stand him. It was clear he’d rather be hanging around Favs, and Tommy was usually a good second choice.

Tommy thought he could be okay with that. Not everyone had to like him. He knew that. Most people didn’t.

He yanked off his hat and tossed it onto the bed, running a hand through his hair. He sat back on his heels to really look at Lovett, who was turning red now.

“Um, you really want to know about me and Katie?” It had been a few months, but it still felt weird to say her name after devoting so much energy to brutally suppressing nearly all thoughts of her. Not that it had been Katie’s fault, Tommy was the asshole, but it still made him feel crazy to think of her too much.

“Not really,” Lovett said. He was still talking too fast. “As your rebound or whatever, I was just curious.”

Tommy thought it was more likely he was trying to make Tommy mad, to whatever mysterious end Lovett had in his head, but he didn’t say it. “You’re not a rebound.”

That made Lovett raise an eyebrow, condescending. “Oh? I’m not?”

“No. I don’t know what you are, man,” Tommy admitted, bewildered. Probably too honest.

Lovett's eyes had gone wide as he stared up at him. Slowly, he reached to touch Tommy’s hair, lightly at first. Then he grabbed hold, tugging firmly. It hurt, but it also made Tommy’s mouth fall open.

Tommy bent down to kiss him again, sucking Lovett's bottom lip hard, caging him in with his body.

“Take your shirt off,” he murmured, going for Lovett’s belt.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Lovett grumbled, distracted, and yanked his shirt over his head.

Lovett was still so skinny, shoulders bony but with just enough baby fat hugging his belly that Tommy couldn’t help but run the flat of his palm over it, watching the muscles jump. He bit one of Lovett’s puffy nipples, loving the noise Lovett made in response, and dragged his mouth down his chest to his little waist, nosing into the join where his hip met his thigh, sliding until he was slipping off the bed and his knees met the dirty carpet of Lovett’s bedroom floor, situated roughly eye-to-eye with Lovett’s crotch.

All at once, he realized he somehow hadn’t blown Lovett yet, in the all the times they’d messed around. It felt like a massive oversight.

He undid the button of Lovett’s pants and tugged them down, quirking an eyebrow when Lovett did nothing to help. Lovett huffed a bit but shifted begrudgingly out of the pants, then lifted his hips so Tommy could slide his boxers down too, dick hard and slapping lightly against his belly.

Staring at Lovett’s bare dick against his pale stomach made Tommy’s mouth water.

He leaned in, getting a hold by the base so he could suck at the pink head, watching Lovett’s stomach hollow when he sucked in a breath.

It had been a while since Tommy had blown a dude but he hadn’t exactly wasted his time at an all-male boarding school, so it was more or less like riding a bike. He thought Lovett might make more noise, but he was quiet, the loudest sound in the room the wet noise of Tommy getting oriented, bobbing his head in a rhythm, tightening his fist just enough until a soft whine escaped Lovett’s mouth.

It was nice, Tommy noticed absently. It was really nice, being crouched in Lovett’s messy bedroom, Lovett’s skinny thighs spread wide around Tommy’s shoulders, whatever weird mood he was in earlier slowly fading away, letting Tommy take his mind off it. Like he trusted Tommy, at least a little bit. Or something. 

Through it all Lovett couldn’t seem to stop wriggling like he didn’t know if he wanted more or to squirm away from Tommy’s mouth. The fifth time he shifted restlessly enough that Tommy lost his grip and his dick slipped out of his mouth, he pulled off with a slurp, rubbing at his wet mouth with the back of his wrist.

“What’s your deal, bro?” he asked, mystified.

“What the fuck?” Lovett asked, lifting his head to glare down at Tommy. His cheeks were flushed bright red and his hair was a mess. He was panting hard. “What are you doing?”

“Uh?” Tommy looked at the dick in his hand, then at Lovett. “Is that a trick question?” He twisted his wrist, watching Lovett bite his lip. “I mean, if you want me to stop…” 

“God, just stop trying to,” Lovett let his head fall back, breathing heavily. “If you would just, fucking—hurry up, jesus.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, throwing his arm out to better hold down Lovett’s hips. He noted the way Lovett’s dick jerked at the manhandling, even as he struggled nominally at the hold.

“You’re so annoying,” Lovett grumbled, shifting under Tommy’s arm.

“Would you _relax_ and let me—” Tommy bit the inside of Lovett’s thigh, lightly, but enough to cut Lovett off from whatever shitty thing he was about to say. “Hey. Just tell me what feels good, okay?”

He went down again until Lovett almost hit his soft palate, maybe a little too hard because it made Tommy gag.

“Shit,” Lovett bit out. His hands were tight in Tommy’s hair. “Are you okay— _shit_.” Tommy twisted his wrist on the up-stroke, pulling off a little to catch his breath. 

Lovett was staring at him, eyes wide and dark, mouth hanging open enough that Tommy could see his pink tongue. Breathless, waiting. 

Tommy needed to wreck him, suddenly.

With his free hand, he hauled Lovett’s leg up by the crook his knee, throwing it over his shoulder, curling his arm firmly around Lovett’s thigh. Lovett swore, startled, but didn’t move away when Tommy crowded closer, able to blow him and control the twitching of Lovett’s hip, watch the way his breath was speeding up, loud, almost panting. 

“Tommy,” Lovett said, almost on a whine. “Tommy, I’m—fuck, man, pull off, I’m going to—”

No way, Tommy decided, Lovett didn’t get to decide how this ended, this was Tommy’s show. 

He took Lovett deep again, holding it, breathing through his nose until he felt Lovett jerk, come pulsing at the back of Tommy’s throat.

He swallowed and came up, eyes watering, coughing to catch his breath.

Lovett was limp, spent, watching Tommy crawl over him until he was poised on his hands and knees, face close to Lovett’s so he could stare down at him. He looked all rumpled, small divot between his eyebrows like he wanted to still be pissed off but was too wiped to complain for once. Tommy was so into it, into knowing he’d done this, that he'd made him look like this.

There was a low, pulsing heat in Tommy’s belly he couldn’t really ignore anymore. He went to his knees and shuffled back so he could pull off his own shirt and his shorts, kicking them off the bed.

Lovett scooted up onto the bed, making room for Tommy to knee his way back up, naked, really fucking hard and yet resigned to the fact that Lovett would probably be a spectator, too come-stupid to lend a hand.

There were worse fates, though, and it was cool knowing Tommy had worn him out. 

“You mind if I just?” He mimed jerking off.

Lovett snorted. “Come on, here.” He put a hand on Tommy’s hip, urging him up until he was straddling Lovett’s chest. Lovett looked smaller than usual beneath him, Tommy not loving the feeling of being a gigantic looming monster hunched over Lovett’s prone form but also —not hating it, weirdly.

Tommy started jerking himself off, already hard from blowing Lovett and getting worked up fast from Lovett’s dark, sleepy eyes darting from Tommy’s hand to his dick to his chest to his face then down again. He held onto Tommy’s waist, thumbs rubbing absently at his hip bones but not doing much else. Just watching.

“Fuck,” Tommy breathed out, hips jerking forward, reaching his other hand down to get a hand on his sack. “Shit.” He couldn’t yank his eyes away from Lovett’s face. Lovett’s gaze was raking all over his body but Tommy couldn’t make himself look anywhere but Lovett’s eyes. His head was spinning like he was getting vertigo.

The edge of his nail caught in his slit and he gasped, losing his balance. He fell forward, catching himself with an elbow at Lovett’s shoulder, his other hand still moving hard and fast, almost too much friction but Lovett was still watching him, and it didn’t matter.

Their faces were really close now, with Tommy leaning like this, his fist brushing against Lovett’s belly every few strokes. Lovett sucked in a breath every time, stomach hollowing.

Lovett was staring into Tommy’s eyes now, no longer greedily taking in his body like he wanted to eat him. Just locking gazes. Face still pink and sweaty, breath unsteady. 

Tommy bent and brushed his mouth against Lovett’s, too out of breath to really kiss, mostly just breathing into Lovett’s mouth. Faces close enough that Tommy went cross-eyed, still staring. “God, Lovett,” he whispered, and came, back bowing as his eyes slammed shut, spurting all over Lovett’s belly. 

He tried not to collapse directly onto Lovett but it was tough in a single XL, so mostly he flopped to side, throwing his leg back with his cheek mushed into the pillow beside Lovett. 

Lovett was covered in come, he realized, and clambered to his knees woozily, looking for something—he grabbed a sock that was hanging out on the floor and wiped gingerly at Lovett’s stomach. 

“Sorry about that,” Tommy said. 

Lovett looked up at him, unnervingly quiet, eyes solemn. He sighed and curled onto his side.

“You can go home now,” he said dully. 

Tommy blinked. He didn’t really want to, he realized. Like, he had class in the mid-morning and he should get up to finish some homework and he hated sleeping unplanned away from his own bed without a toothbrush and contact solution but he still found that he just—kind of wanted to stay. 

But Lovett had just told him to go, so.

Tommy stood up, knees a little wobbly, and started slowly gathering his clothes, pulling everything on again until he was clothed and staring at Lovett naked on the bed, his pale little ass on display.

“Are you...you good?” Tommy blurted out, then winced.

“I’m fine,” Lovett said sharply. His back was still to Tommy where he stood, uncertain, in the middle of the room clutching his hat in his hands.

Feeling like an asshole, Tommy made his cautious way to Lovett’s side and tugged the thin jersey sheet up from where it was crumpled at the foot of the bed over Lovett’s bare hip.

Lovett flinched, and Tommy stepped back. 

“Don’t be nice to me,” Lovett muttered.

“Okay.” It seemed like an achievable promise. Tommy hadn’t been very nice to him at all so far, in a way that was starting to feel a little—uncomfortable. Weird. He wasn’t sure. It didn’t feel great, at the very least. “I won’t.”

When Lovett didn’t say anything, Tommy figured that was his cue. 

The girl with the eyeliner was still on the couch in the living room as Tommy stepped out of Lovett’s bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

“You get home safe,” she advised him in possibly the snottiest voice Tommy had ever heard, and he grew up with a sister and ton of female cousins.

“Thanks for your concern,” he shot back, just as cattily.

She sent him a look of pure venom as he turned and left. 

Tommy felt her eyes on him long after he’d walked down the stairs and out onto the street, night still cool, something in him unsettled despite getting laid, which usually settled him down.

Not tonight, though, he decided as he walked back to Langdon. Tonight was weird.

He kept thinking of Lovett curled up into a little ball on his side in the bed, and then forcing himself not to think about it as he trudged home.

It worked, for a few minutes. Until he was thinking about it again.

 

*


	2. Chapter 2

*

Tommy still couldn’t really stand Lovett.

He was still condescending and bossy as shit and talked to Tommy like he thought Tommy was some sort of inbred idiot who could barely walk and chew gum simultaneously, and he was always goading Tommy into arguments when really Tommy just wanted to study in peace, or maybe jerk each other off and then make out a little and then escape back to his room and pretend like this wasn’t happening.

It was just that after the night at the K Klub, something shifted.

Sure, every time he ran into Lovett skulking around the frat, being rude and in Tommy’s way, it still took a monumental effort to restrain himself from dragging Lovett off somewhere to bite at his neck and kiss him and jerk off on his stomach just to hear Lovett squawk in protest. 

More and more he just gave into it, barely even fought off the impulse.

But he also found himself feeling—weird. Like, tender, almost. Which was fucked up, and mostly didn’t bear thinking about, because it most likely didn’t mean anything and Tommy was just worn out from school and lacrosse and frat responsibilities and was borderline insane with sleep deprivation.

Besides, the hooking up still didn’t happen all the time—fall semester was busy as shit, getting busier as they headed into midterms, and the frat was buzzing most of the time, and it wasn’t effortless to slip away, especially with someone as loud as Lovett, and plus Favs was usually in the room, talking with Lovett or laughing at Lovett or generally fawning over him in a way that made Tommy semi-unconsciously grind his teeth.

None of it really explained why just hearing Lovett’s loud voice downstairs making Favs laugh was enough to make the muscles in Tommy’s neck tense.

Enough to make him stomp to the bottom of the stairs and lie in wait until Lovett wandered away to use the bathroom. To grab him by the tops of his arms and drag him away, to Tommy’s bedroom or one of the study rooms if it was midday and no one was around. To bite at his annoying little chin and make him moan until they were both shivering, impatient to get off, sucking on each other’s lips until their mouths were red.

Some days it felt like all he wanted to do.

And frankly, Favs was the biggest barrier to that happening, if Tommy was being honest with himself, which he didn’t really want to be, especially not about this.

A week after K Klub, Tommy got home from his late mid-week discussion section and heard Lovett laughing before he was even all the way in the house. For a brief, idiotic second, he let himself think about swooping in and dragging Lovett away from whatever form of court he was holding and up to Tommy’s bedroom and just, he wasn’t sure—doing something with him. Maybe get off together, he wasn’t sure. Maybe get him down on the bed so Tommy could wrap him up, hold his smaller body down so Tommy could hear him grumble, squirm a little, then settle. 

His roommate was out again. Tommy didn’t have practice in the morning. It felt pretty perfect, except he forgot that if Lovett was here, that meant—

“Tommy!” Favs called out when Tommy rounded the corner. He was huddled on the couch with Lovett, color high, still giggling at Lovett who he was perched on the arm of the couch and staring archly at Tommy. “You’re home! How was class?” 

“It was Calc II, it was boring as shit.” He didn’t mean to sound so angry about it. It was just pretty annoying that his stupid half-baked plan to spirit Lovett upstairs was dead on arrival because Lovett never came to the frat without Favs. Why had Tommy let himself think any different.

But whatever. It was whatever. 

He bypassed the living room without even a wave in Lovett’s direction and went into the kitchen. A few brothers were finishing dinner and gave him a wave, but Tommy was mostly too pissed off to talk to them.

He was making a sandwich when he felt a familiar, irritating presence at his elbow.

“Make me one too, huh?” Lovett asked/demanded, nudging Tommy with his elbow. He was grinning like he was in a good mood, even though Tommy was not and there was probably no way he was going to be able to pull Lovett away from Favs long enough to fuck around before Tommy got too tired and passed out for the night.

“No,” Tommy said. “Make your own food.”

“But you’re so good at sandwich making,” Lovett cajoled, nudging Tommy again. “Probably. I don’t know, you’ve never made me a sandwich before, but you seem like the type.” 

He kept touching Tommy, which wasn’t a big deal because the kitchen was empty now and it was a Tuesday and the house was quiet, but it made Tommy twitchy. Like Lovett just felt entitled to touch Tommy whenever he wanted, when he was just going to go back and fawn all over Favs for the night afterward. The whole thing was fucking stupid. 

Lovett leaned just slightly into Tommy’s side, murmuring, “Come on, big guy, make me a sandwich, need to keep my stamina up—” when Tommy jerked away, the knife he was using to cut a tomato clattering to the cutting board.

Stepping back, Lovett blinked in surprise.

“Why are you here all the time?” Tommy burst out. “Don’t you have your own friends to hang out with?”

Lovett flinched, and Tommy immediately felt like king of the assholes; but he could also already see Lovett winding himself up, zero to sixty in no time when his back was up or he felt attacked.

“Favs _is_ my friend, you shithead, and I have plenty of other friends,” Lovett bit out, crossing his arms. 

“Just, like, why are you here all the time?” He sounded petulant even to himself, but Tommy didn’t know how to change it.

He watched Lovett’s shoulders hunch. “What, I’m not allowed to make friends outside of my set circle of weirdo gays? I can’t, like, get to know some frat guy and become friends? Are the strictures of college so set in stone?”

Tommy wasn’t sure if Lovett was talking about him or Favs as the titular frat guy he was attempting to befriend, and that was going to annoy him but he pushed on.

“That was—I didn’t mean it like that,” Tommy said, even though he had, maybe, if only with less of the homophobia.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about how Lovett just didn’t seem to be as aggressively committed to becoming Tommy’s friend with the same enthusiasm as he did Favs. Not outside of their semi-regular angry hookups at least.

Which was _fine_ , Tommy was fine with it, it was just—he was just curious as to the rules, probably.

“You can hang out here even when Favs isn’t here,” Tommy found himself saying against his will. Shit. That wasn’t—he hadn’t known he was going to say that.

Lovett looked thrown, which Tommy thought was fair. “What?” He put his hands on his hips.

“I’m just saying—fuck, you’re already over here all the time, you don’t have to make excuses that it’s just to see Favs.” That didn’t sound right either. Tommy felt himself blushing. This was going off the rails.

“Me and Favs are friends. You need to get over that," Lovett said airily, like he was mostly joking at the idea of him and Favs being friends, which was fucked up because Favs was obsessed with Lovett, Tommy thought sourly. If nothing else, Lovett had successfully convinced Jon Favreau that he was cool.

"Whatever, I am," Tommy muttered.

"Wait." Lovett tilted his head curiously.“Are you trying to say...you’re my friend now?”

“No,” Tommy shot back reflexively. Lovett was already starting to grin though, like the Grinch, even as Tommy tried to clarify, “No, _no_ , that is _not_ what I meant, shut up. We’re _not_ friends.”

“Oh my god, we’re totally friends. Wow, you get attached easily, don’t you? You’re like a little labradoodle. Just want to be loved.”

Tommy gritted his teeth. “That is not—come on, man.” He tried not to whine.

But Lovett was beaming at him now, Tommy’s sniping apparently forgotten, and it was a little unsettling. The sudden warmth.

He was used to people getting mad at him, was the thing. And he was used to not letting it get to him. It wasn’t his way. People just usually weren’t that preoccupied with being his friend, except for Favs, and that was fine.

Except for right now, with Lovett beaming up at him like he’d won some massive coup.

Unwillingly, Tommy felt the corner of his mouth pulling up.

Lovett rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Vietor. If you want to be friends, we can be friends, who knew straight guys were so needy.” He still insisted on saying Tommy’s last name like it rhymed with Eddie Vedder, which distracted him enough from the mysterious ‘straight guy’ reference.

“It’s Vietor,” Tommy said wearily, pronouncing it correctly. “Come on, man. You have to know that by now.”

Lovett made a strangled sound. “Oh my _god_ , I don’t care.” He stepped forward to yank Tommy down by his collar, making him hunch down to grab Lovett and pull him up to his tiptoes.

Distantly, Tommy knew they shouldn’t be doing this here. Favs could walk in at any minute or one of the other guys. He knew that. It was just hard to care a whole bunch when Lovett was sticking his tongue in his mouth, making these little sounds, kissing the breath out of him, trying to probe something Tommy couldn't even begin to guess about.

After an interminable amount of time, they separated by a few inches, both breathing hard. 

“Jesus,” Lovett breathed. His eyes were dilated. Tommy squeezed his hands tighter at his waist. “The rules of hooking up with straight guys are _wild_ , like. You dudes are so emotional.” 

“What?” Tommy laughed. “How many guys are you pulling on a regular basis, come on? That isn’t like a thing that you do.” He was reasonably sure, at least. 

“It’s not like, an inordinate amount. I mean. I _am_ a student, like I have stuff going on.”

“Math stuff,” Tommy said, smirking. They were still standing really close. 

“Yeah, math stuff.” Snorting, Lovett nodded. He let his fingertips tease over Tommy’s shoulder at the edge of his t-shirt. “What can I say, I love a straight frat idiot, they’re so fumbly, they’re like big dumb bears.” 

“Hey,” Tommy said, stung. But then how many times Lovett had said ‘straight’ finally began to resonate, and he paused. “Wait.” It was also possible that this wasn’t just a joke about Tommy, anymore.

Lovett stepped away. “Okay, good talk! Bye!”

“Lovett, wait,” Tommy called out, but he had already traipsed back in with Favs. He heard Lovett murmur something and Favs bark out a laugh. 

Huh. _Huh_. Just, huh.

He avoided the living room and went to his room, pulling out his Econ book and then not looking at it.  

Straight guys. Plural. More than just Tommy, who wasn’t straight, but it didn’t seem the time to split hairs.

“Huh,” he said to no one, staring off into the middle distance.

He didn’t get much studying done that night. 

 

*

 

The rest of the week kind of went like that, Tommy always feeling a step behind and couldn’t find his balance.

So, of course, it was also a week when his dad managed to catch him on the phone. 

“Dad, it’s fine. Seriously, I’m fine, I swear.” Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, holding his phone tight to his ear.

“Buddy, I know you’re saying that. You always say that.”

“So take me at my word, maybe,” Tommy muttered, too annoyed to be cautious.

“Hey, now,” his dad said lightly.

Tommy winced. “Sorry.”

“I just want to be sure you’re not going too overboard. Like in high school.” 

Tommy winced a little harder. “I’m fine, Dad.” Thinking of high school was so embarrassing. It was a million years ago, he didn’t know why his parents were always so obsessed with it. So he had a few panic attacks. He was a kid, then. He was over that shit. 

“Okay. Okay, Tommy. Just—try calling every once in a while, then. Your mom and your step-mom worry, okay?”

“Okay.” He’d called last month on his way home from Econ, left a voicemail. It wasn’t like he never called. And why would he call, when all his dad wanted to talk about was how Tommy was too intense and couldn’t be trusted not to have a meltdown again like some dumb kid?

“Love you,” his dad said. He paused like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. He was always so hesitant on the phone, afraid one wrong move would send Tommy spinning off into the ether. It was pretty counterproductive in terms of coaxing Tommy to call more often, but he didn’t have the energy to say it and hurt his dad’s feelings.

“You too.” 

“Go to bed at a reasonable hour tonight, okay?”

Tommy hummed noncommittally, and then they both said goodbye and hung up.

He had like, seven hours of homework yet to do that day, and he had to be back in time to set up for a big stupid party he didn’t even really want to go to, and he could already tell his focus was shot.

Heaving himself off the bed, he swung his backpack onto his shoulder and decided to at least give it a shot at the library.

The door was cracked and when he pushed it open, someone standing just behind it made a huffing sound as it knocked into their chest.

Tommy reared backward in surprise, but was less than totally surprised to see Lovett on the other side, hair fluffy and askew, eyes shifting guiltily. 

“How long have you been out here?” Tommy asked tiredly.

Lovett chewed on his lip, eyes darting around as he obviously pondered how best to lie about it. “Um. There’s really no answer I can think of you’d be happy with, so let’s just table that for now, huh?” 

Leaning against his doorframe, Tommy squinted at him, low-level annoyed but also too out of sorts and frustrated to really give it his best effort. “So I can assume you probably eavesdropped on that entire conversation, right?”

Shrugging, Lovett jerked his chin at Tommy’s backpack. “You going to the library?” 

“I guess.” 

“I was going to meet Favs at the Union later, but I’m going to the library now. You could, I don’t know. Join.” As far as grudging invitations went, Tommy had heard worse, but still.

He hated being the third wheel. He’d always kind of been that when Lovett and Favs were together, but it felt worse than ever now, now that he...knew.

“I’d hate to force you to hang out with me when we’re not getting off,” he said finally, snidely.

Lovett rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, shut up. You want to come or don’t you?”

It would probably be pretty satisfying to shut Lovett down to punish him a little for being such a goddamn snooping pain in the ass, but. Tommy didn’t want to sit by himself in the library sulking, and even arguing with Lovett felt at least a little better than doing that. A lot better, really, and Lovett was wearing shorts even though it was in the 50s outside, and Tommy couldn’t stop staring at his knees.

“Fine.” Tommy shouldered past him to the stairs, ignoring Lovett’s indignant huff. 

Leaves crunched under their feet as they went, Lovett meandering back and forth and taking up too much space on the sidewalk, Tommy pressing his lips together and refusing to give him attention for being annoying. 

“So, that was your dad?” 

“Not even kind of your business, dude.” When Lovett just waited, Tommy exhaled. “Yeah. That was my dad.”

“Is he, like. A hardass?” 

“No.” His dad was the farthest thing from a hardass Tommy could imagine. His whole family was the diametric opposite of uptight. Most people didn’t believe him when he told them, though, so he didn’t elaborate. 

“So you guys, like, don’t get along?”

Tommy shrugged. That felt like an oversimplification, but the actual truth was a lot less flattering so it didn’t seem to be in his personal interest to correct Lovett. He just picked up the pace a little instead, Lovett huffing to keep up.

“Why did you come to the house first, if you’re meeting Favs later?” Tommy asked after another moment, as they waited to cross the street. A car was turning but Lovett moved to dart across anyway; Tommy grabbed the strap of his backpack and reeled him back in, Lovett rolling his eyes but allowing himself to be rescued from certain vehicular death. 

“He forgot a book, I was closer, told him I’d pick it up.” 

Which was probably a total normal friend thing to do, objectively, but Tommy felt pissed off anyway. “Are you sure you don't just want to go to your little study date? Sounds pretty intimate, I don't know why you want to waste time at the library.” 

Lovett stopped walking, and Tommy had to stutter to a stop too so he could glare at him. “What is this?” He gestured at Tommy’s head. “What are you doing? Is this a bit?” 

“What? No. What are you even talking about?”

“Because you don’t need to act all, I don’t know what this is, but you don’t need to bother. I’ll still touch your dick, you can dial it down. You don’t have to pretend to be jealous.” 

“God, I wasn’t _even—fine_ , I’ll shut up.” 

As they passed through a crosswalk, Lovett took a deliberate step to the left and hip-checked Tommy hard enough that he stumbled. 

He nearly went down, catching himself on Lovett's shoulder. “What the _fuck_.”

“You’re not so bad, you know,” Lovett told him. "Like, obviously Favs is superior, but you're okay too." He wouldn’t look Tommy in the eye. 

Utterly mystified, Tommy looked at him. “What does that mean?”

Groaning, Lovett knocked his shoulder into Tommy, pushing him forward. “Hurry the fuck up, it’s cold.”

“Wear normal pants, then.”

“Pants are a conspiracy,” Lovett said confidently, and launched into a stupid, incomprehensible rant as they walked inside and Tommy focused on not laughing or giving Lovett any sort of positive reinforcement, which wasn’t easy.

Lovett was actually pretty genuinely funny, when he got going, if you let yourself look past like, his general personality. 

What the fuck, Tommy thought to himself.

They got to a crosswalk and passed a few guys from Kappa that Tommy recognized and he gave them the chin-nod, which they returned. Lovett trailed off and when Tommy looked down, he was watching Tommy with narrow-eyed suspicion. 

“What?” 

“Sometimes I just forget for a second,” Lovett said. “How deep in it you are.”

“Deep in what?” Tommy looked back at the Kappa guys, who were nearly half a block away now, then down at Lovett. “Sometimes we throw parties with their frat. It’s not a big deal.” 

“It’s just, like. Your whole thing.” He made an incomprehensible gesture in the direction of Tommy’s face. “The bro thing.”

They were at the library now, thank christ, and Tommy let Lovett lead the way up the stairs.   

“Those guys don’t even like me, we’re not like friends.” He held the library door open for Lovett and followed him through, pausing to dig through his bag for his ID.

"They don't? Why not? I thought you guys were all like, brothers for life or whatever."

“I don’t know, I mean it’s not like a thing. I don’t really know them. It’s just most guys in in other frats don’t like me.” He chuckled, so Lovett would know it didn’t really bother him, mostly. “The guys in my own frat barely tolerate me.”

Lovett looked suspicious. “I feel like there should be sad French music playing as you tell your tale, standing alone in the rain.” 

“Fuck off,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes. “I’m just saying, I don’t have a thing. Being in the frat is just, like. Just something I do.” 

Lovett didn’t seem too convinced, and Tommy didn’t really know how to explain. Even his own parents had this idea that being a brother meant Tommy had somehow assimilated into a close-knit community, and maybe that’s how it was for some guys (he knew that’s how it was for Favs), but three years in and Tommy had stopped expecting it to be like that. 

Instead, he accepted that he spent most of his time regularly pestering the other brothers to fucking spend less on all their stupid house bullshit so they could stay in line with their budget. He’d nearly come to blows with a committee member the year before when he’d cut the liquor budget by twenty percent when they were low on dues.

He was not dynamic and did not recall making a positive impression on any of the brothers or alum he met during rush week, but somehow he became a pledge, and before anyone could correct what was probably a clerical error, it was clear that while Tommy wasn’t fun he did get shit fucking accomplished, and so, over time, he was reluctantly folded into the core of the house.

He would never be popular enough to be frat president, but he’d taken up the post as the heavy to Favs’ shiny-eyed Arthurian leadership regardless and made up for it by becoming single-mindedly competent enough to make their frat a powerhouse on Langdon. Someone had to tell the other brothers to shut the fuck up during house meetings and keep track of community service projects and partnerships, and he’d even made the deeply unfun but mandatory annual Don’t Rape People and Don’t Let Your Friends Rape People, Either, lecture part of his portfolio as well.

“It’s mostly because Favs and I are a package deal,” Tommy said after a moment. “Everyone just had to learn to live with me.” He again laughed to show it was fine, because it mostly was.

They showed their ID at the front desk and passed through to the elevator. At his side, Lovett looked thoughtful. They went up to the third floor, and as the door opened, Lovett turned to hm. 

“I mean, you shouldn’t assume it’s all Favs,” he said quietly. Uncharacteristically so. 

“Okay.” Tommy raised his eyebrows. He ushered Lovett out in front of him so the elevator door wouldn’t close on them both. 

“I'm just trying to tell you, you’re not so bad,” Lovett said, a little flustered. “Or whatever, I don’t care. Keep feeling sorry for yourself, do what you want.” 

“Good pep talk, thanks,” Tommy replied, rolling his eyes, but weirdly, it kind of was. It was the most he’d ever told anyone about being a brother, and something about Lovett’s unromantic, clear-eyed dickishness was bracing. 

Out of nowhere, he was hit with a nearly overwhelming need to demand to know why Lovett was even settling for Tommy. Was he hooking up with anyone else on the side? Was Tommy just one in a handful of frat idiots Lovett made time for? Part of him thought probably not, but a bigger, crazier part thought maybe, and it kept eating at him, ever since Lovett had brought it up days before.

Would it make Tommy insane or just delusional to stop in the middle of the sidewalk and demand that he stop doing it, if he was? Probably.

He let Lovett lead them to to a table in the back and waited for Lovett to choose his seat with his back to the window so the sun wasn’t in his eyes before Tommy sat down too. 

“Stop looking at me,” Lovett muttered, pulling out his laptop and a truly intimidating book on theoretical geometry.

“Get over yourself, I’m not,” Tommy hissed back, wincing when someone shushed them from a few tables over.

But he kept finding himself glancing up, expecting to catch Lovett’s eye, and being disappointed when Lovett wasn’t looking up each time.

 

*

 

But what the hell did “not that bad” even mean, though, really?

It plagued him for the rest of the week, because what was the actual implication if someone whose dick you sometimes sucked said it to you nonchalantly without any explanation and no follow-up?

They were at the Union later that week, Tommy roped in by Favs before he knew Lovett would be meeting them, and having Lovett sitting kitty-corner from him was not helping his fixation on those three little words. 

They’d found a table in a common lounge, too loud for Tommy’s taste but between Favs and Lovett he’d been soundly out-voted.

“Ambient noise helps with cognitive processing,” Lovett had said, like a know-it-all, but Tommy had just rolled his eyes and gone along.

He hit Return on his laptop harder than he meant, and squinted at the screen, trying to absorb the PDF in front of him with minimal success. He’d been trying to get through this chapter for almost an hour and he couldn’t stop hearing Lovett’s words in his head.

Also Lovett kept sighing, and when Tommy glanced up Lovett did too, a little judgmentally.

Tommy made a face and looked back at his book, and when Lovett sighed again, like he was exasperated, he looked up sharper this time.

“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?”

“How long have you been on that chapter?” Lovett made a bewildered face. “Are you sounding out the words as you go?”

Defensive, Tommy pulled the book closer. “Fuck off.” He read at a _normal speed_. “Stop watching me read, you creep.”

“I’m genuinely concerned! I assume there’s a time limit on whatever supply chain bullshit you’re reading about, you’ll never make it!”

“At least I’m reading, you’re just flipping through—are you looking for pictures?”

Lovett opened his mouth, riled up, Tommy’s stomach twisting in something like shameful anticipation, but Favs cut in.

“Guys?” he asked, nonplussed as he glanced between them.

Lovett laughed, shaking his head. “Whatever, I guess. I look forward to hearing your thoughts when you finish that chapter in three years.”

Tommy slammed his book shut. “I’m getting more coffee.” He stood up and walked out, doing his best not to stomp up down the hall.

He went into the single bathroom around the corner, which was blessedly empty, and waited only a minute before Lovett came clomping in after him, driving into Tommy like a missile and knocking him into the sink.

“You read so fucking slow,” Lovett gasped out, muscling Tommy’s shirt up around his armpits and twisting at a nipple. “It’s fucking painful, man, I can’t take it.”

“Some of us take fucking notes when we read, get off my ass—” Tommy’s indignant defense muffled as Lovett kissed him, rough, or as rough as he could be with that stupid soft mouth of his.

The thing was, it didn’t stay angry for long, like they were both just waiting for an excuse for things to slow down, get a little hazy.

He licked into Lovett’s mouth, every thought of the chapters he still had to finish tonight evaporating, the same stupid anxieties over frat responsibilities drifting away. Thinking about being "not that bad" but obviously not as good as Favs. About whoever else Lovett might be getting off with when Tommy wasn't around.

Lovett cupped his elbows, squeezing, and Tommy leaned closer, feeling perfectly focused for once.

They made out for a while, until Tommy became aware that maybe eight or nine minutes had passed and they needed to make the best of this before Favs came looking.

He pulled back and turned Lovett around, working to pull his dumb tight jeans down one-handed, the other busy squeezing his dick. He fumbled to bring his boxers down too.

Tommy leaned back, looking down at Lovett’s pale bare ass. He couldn’t help but give it a squeeze.

Lovett froze.

Tommy shook himself. “Hey,” he murmured into Lovett’s ear. Softer than he normally talked to Lovett, at least in the beginning. It felt more normal, lately, to lower his voice, try to calm him down when he tensed up, which was weird in itself. “I wasn’t trying to—I just. Is this okay?” 

Lovett nodded with a slight, barely-there nod, and Tommy reached down to fit his dick into the tight, sweaty clutch of Lovett’s thighs, nudging a little and squeezing his eyes shut at the feeling. He mouthed wetly at Lovett’s temple. Hooking an arm around his waist, he pulled Lovett closer, noting how much smaller Lovett was, the neat curve of his waist, how Tommy had to spread his feet to get low enough to fit like this.

He held off, waiting. He could feel Lovett’s stomach expand and contract with each quick, uneven breath. He didn’t like how quiet he was.

Tommy kissed his neck. “Can we—like this?” He wanted to feel Lovett go pliant against him again, or at least push back, sharp, maybe snap something mean and impatient.

He heard Lovett swallow. “Okay,” he said, voice guttural.

Pushing his cock in snug at the juncture of Lovett’s thighs, Tommy kept his hand going on Lovett’s cock, mouthing at his cheek and jaw.

He rubbed his thumb over the head, rolling his wrist, smiling to himself when he heard Lovett suck in a breath, shifting restlessly in Tommy’s grip. Until finally—

“Fuck, just—do it,” Lovett demanded, reaching back to grab onto Tommy’s hip and shove his ass back, Tommy’s cock sliding in between his thighs, the friction almost too rough with nothing but sweat and his precome slicking the way, yanking a moan out of Tommy.

“Okay, okay,” he gasped out, holding Lovett still. “Just let me.” He pressed in, found the angle, his dick nudging against Lovett's sack as he shoved between his thighs, picking up a short, jerking rhythm that was really, really doing it for him. He lost track of time for a minute, face pressed into Lovett’s neck, Lovett making these amazing sounds as Tommy jerked him off, the feeling of Tommy’s cock sliding in between his clenched thighs making everything feel like it was spinning.

He felt Lovett wrap his hand around Tommy's wrist. Tentatively, like he just—wanted the contact. Lovett rubbed a thumb slowly over a vein on Tommy’s arm and Tommy felt himself lurch, surprised, hips pushing forward harder than he’d meant to, both of them groaning at it.

He came first, not quite aware that it was coming before it did, nutting all over Lovett’s thighs, gasping like an idiot as Lovett swore.

“Sorry, sorry,” Tommy muttered, picking up the pace on Lovett’s cock. “Come on.” He sucked a kiss onto Lovett’s neck. “Come for me.”

To his eternal surprise, Lovett obeyed, crying out. He jerked forward, out of Tommy’s hand, coming all over his front.

Tommy hunched over him for a long moment, both of them still shaking and catching their breath.

Until Tommy straightened, seeing how Lovett was looking down at the mess between his thighs, on his jeans and belly.

“Like—that was hot, I mean, credit where credit is due,” Lovett said slowly as Tommy flushed, mortified. “But _dude_. Dude, look at this. Not cool.”

“Here,” he said, tugging Lovett’s shirt up over his head. Lovett, being Lovett, struggled nominally but let Tommy pull it out of the way, watching as Tommy grabbed toilet paper to mop him off. On reflex, when Lovett was clean Tommy pressed a kiss to his temple. “There.”

He pulled back and saw Lovett watching him in wide-eyed shock.

Tommy clenched his hands and stepped back, fighting against a nearly indomitable urge to touch Lovett _more_ , kiss his face, murmur some apology, help him get his shirt back on, solicitous.

He wrote it off as a reflexive latent relationship instinct that emerged from time to time and backed away. “See you back out there, I guess,” he said softly.

Lovett’s eyebrows were drawn slightly together. “Okay, weirdo. See you out there.”

Tommy felt shaky as he hurried back to their table in the corner. 

Favs glanced up vaguely as he sat down. “Where’d you disappear to?”

“What are you talking about? Sometimes I leave rooms for a while without a definite return timeline, it’s not a big deal.”

“Okay,” Favs said slowly. “You said you were just getting coffee, and it took you forever. And you don’t even _have_ fucking coffee, so. Don’t get mad at me when you’re being weird.”

Tommy just made a face and settled back in his chair, completely unable to concentrate but making a valiant effort to pretend.

After another five minutes, Tommy heard Favs say, “Lovett! Man, long bathroom break. You good?” He refused to look up, listening to the way Lovett stomped over to the table, throwing himself down.

“Stop timing my bathroom breaks. Get a hobby.”

Laughing, Favs protested, “Sorry! I just wanted to make sure you’re not sick or whatever.”

“Jesus, boundaries, Favreau.”

Tommy kept staring at his textbook, biting his lip so he wouldn’t grin.

When he glanced up, Lovett wasn’t looking at him, but as he stared determinedly at his laptop, Tommy thought he could see him smiling too.

 

*

 

Favs went home for a long weekend for his brother’s birthday, catching the bus to O’Hare Thursday night, which on its face was not a Big Deal.

It was just that Tommy didn’t put the pieces together until it was Saturday afternoon and he realized he hadn’t gotten off with Lovett in three days.

Stupidly, he hadn’t taken into account that when Favs wasn’t at the house, Lovett would have no reason to be there, either, regardless of Tommy’s awkward open invitation of a few weeks back.

He tried to keep busy and not think too hard about it. He paid for the keg for the party that night and did some homework and messed around on Xbox for a while with some of the guys and didn’t connect why he felt so antsy until he blinked and realized: shit.

He knew where Lovett lived, of course. But the thought of tracking him down and seeming that desperate made Tommy hesitate, and it wasn’t like he had his phone number to check in.

Brooding, he figured there was no reason for him to not go to the library to get work done while before he had to be home for party set up.

Settling in a corner, he pulled out his laptop and a notebook and dicked around online for thirty minutes until he settled in with some reading. He still felt restless, but different than when he’d been at the house. 

After a while, he yawned and glanced up.

Lovett was sitting a few tables away, staring straight at Tommy, looking not unlike an angry cat.

Tommy blinked. After a second, he realized his mouth was hanging open a little and he snapped it shut. Lovett had a hat pulled low over his forehead and he looked tired and like he hadn’t showered today and his shirt was all stretched out at the collar.

Tommy felt hungry, just looking at him, like a lunatic.

He swallowed and pressed his lips together, nodding hello in Lovett’s direction. Lovett theatrically rolled his eyes, and Tommy flushed, looking down at his computer again. He reread the same sentence four times before glancing up again.

Lovett was still watching him, intent. Tommy narrowed his eyes and looked away.

By the fourth time he looked up to see Lovett watching him, Tommy sighed. He raised his eyebrows and started pointedly clearing off a corner of his table for Lovett’s piles of shit.

Cooperatively, Lovett got up and dragged his books and backpack over and dropped them on Tommy’s table with a huff.

“Don’t the other frat idiots miss you? Are you on work release?” he asked sourly, in a normal speaking voice that rang out in the quiet hush of the library.

Tommy shushed him, glancing around to wince in apology at the girl a table over, which just made Lovett roll his eyes. “Goddamn rule follower, with your goddamn Von Trapp hair,” he hissed, but at a blessedly lower volume. “You’re probably descended from that dickhead teen who blew the whistle as they tried to escape.”

Keeping his voice low, Tommy asked tiredly, “Wait, am I still a Von Trapp or am I the kid in the Hitler Youth costume, I can’t tell which direction you’re insulting me.”

Lovett made a face. “Me too. I’m not sure. Both, I guess.” His eyebrows scrunched together. “Whatever, it’s in your blood.”

Tommy laughed, utterly bewildered. The girl next to them was glaring. He ducked his head. Still, he whispered, “What the fuck? Is your argument that anti-Semitism is...genetic?”

Lovett crossed his arms, refusing to back down. “Well, it’s not _not_.”

Tommy huffed. God, Lovett was the worst. He messed around with his pens, grabbing one to reach out and poke Lovett in the arm. “Where the hell have you been, anyway?” 

Lovett swatted at the pen. He wouldn’t look at Tommy. “What do you mean.” 

“Like. You’ve been pretty MIA.” 

“I’m not an actual member of your frat, you know. I'm not a legacy bro or whatever.” 

Tommy made a face. “What? You don't even know what that means. And it isn’t—Whatever.”

“And Favs is out of town,” Lovett pointed out. 

“Well, yeah. But I’m not.” Tommy closed his eyes, wincing. Death would be kinder.

When the silence stretched on, uninterrupted by Lovett’s flagrantly non-library voice, Tommy huffed and opened his eyes. Lovett was staring at him, color a little high.

“I mean, you said we were friends. Was that just you trying to get into my pants?” Tommy tried for teasing, but it came out kind of weak. “I feel used.” 

Lovett shook his head. “God, so needy,” he said, but he was grinning now. “I didn’t know we were hang-out friends.”

“I feel like you have a lot of friend-rules you’re following that maybe you could loosen up on,” Tommy countered. He was leaning in across the table, voice still low, pressing forward on his elbows. He couldn’t stop himself. He kept looking at Lovett biting his lip.

Lovett swallowed. “Want to hook up in the bathroom?”

Tommy tilted his head. “Not really?” The bathrooms here were gross as shit. “I’m hungry, though.” He stretched his arms over his head, feigning cool. His heart was thumping. 

“Okay,” Lovett said cautiously. “I could...eat too?” God, they both sounded like idiots, like they were dismantling a bomb.

“Like, we’re having a party with Pi Phi tonight, if you wanted to—we could get food and then you could come over and head over?” He didn’t mean it as a question, but then he kind of—heard what he was saying and felt stupid. Lovett hated frat stuff, he’d probably make some dickhead excuse. He almost never came to a party or the house itself without Favs there. 

“You’re inviting me to your frat party?” 

“No,” Tommy shot back, reflexive. “I mean. Only if you want to.” 

“Okay.” 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to—” Tommy stopped and actually played back what Lovett had said. “Wait, really?”

Lovett was packing up his stuff. “God, find your chill. I said I’d go with you to your dumb party, not marry you in the spring, christ.” 

Tommy made a face. “You’re not ‘going with me,’ you’re not my date.” 

“Good, because I don’t want to be your date.”

“Oh, whatever, you’d love to be my date, don’t lie.”

“Fine, Tommy, I’ll be your date, stop begging, it’s unbecoming.”

“Wait. That wasn’t. Fuck you.” 

They were packed up now, Lovett cackling and ignoring the glares of the girl at the table ne toxt them, Tommy snickering even as he shoved Lovett to get moving.

They got sandwiches at a food cart and started back toward Langdon. Tommy was jittery, glancing at Lovett, feeling like he should make some kind of small talk. 

“So, how’s, um. Math going?” 

Lovett gave him a look “Math’s okay. Math’s fine. I’ll let it know you’ve been asking after it.” He kept his eyes on the sidewalk in front of him when he asked, “How’s your dad doing?”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Um. Good? He’s good?” He coughed. “We, like. We don’t talk that much. He worries a lot, and I just...I don’t know. I don’t want to make him worry more.” 

“By not talking to him.” 

“If he doesn’t talk to me, he can kind of make up who he thinks I am. Someone less intense, probably.”

Lovett exhaled through his teeth. “Shit. That is grim.” 

“Yeah, well.” Tommy shoved his hands in his pocket. It was easier when they were arguing, but it was surprisingly okay when they could just talk like this. Mostly it was confusing.

“My parents legitimately don’t understand a thing about me,” Lovett said after they’d been walking for a block or so in silence. “Like, we talk all the time, but mostly it’s so they can tell me what they think I should do and stuff, not so they can hear me talk about my life or anything.”

“Parents are really complicated,” Tommy agreed. 

Lovett sighed, strangely wistful for him. “Yeah.”

Tommy waited for a swirl of anxiety to creep up on him or to think about his dad or his mom and what they were doing right now, if they were stressing over him, or calling each other to worry about him together, which he knew they did at least a few times a week.

Strangely, it was mostly at a low, manageably hum. It was a relief. 

“I said I’d pick up the keg,” he told Lovett. “So I need to stop by and get Caleb’s car first.”

“Just so you know I’m not helping you carry anything, or set anything up.” 

“Such a team player.” 

“It’s not my dumb party.” 

“Yeah, but you’re coming with me to this dumb party, so it wouldn’t be like, unheard of if you wanted to lend a hand.”

Lovett just looked at him blankly. “That sounds genuinely terrible.”

Against his will, Tommy laughed. 

He watched Lovett smirk, pleased with himself, and then did his best not to react when Lovett’s hand brushed against his as they walked. He was mostly successful.

 

*

 

At the first, the party was great, which was maybe not as big of a surprise as it should have been.

A party meant getting drunk, and Tommy was good at that, and besides, he’d been part of the frat for years and it wasn’t like he didn’t know nearly all the people here. Even if some of the brothers thought he was was a pain in the ass, there was a certain prestige in handling the money that paid for the keg, and being a member of the Exec Board. 

But usually, if Favs wasn’t there Tommy sometimes floundered a bit, got too drunk, a little surly. Didn’t have someone there to balance him out.

With Lovett, though, he felt kind of like an ambassador, even though Lovett had been to parties here in the past few months. He’d come with Favs a bunch of times. 

It felt different now, though. With just the two of them. Tommy couldn’t really explain it. He just found himself sticking near to Lovett’s side all night.

Close enough so that whenever Lovett ran out of beer, he could smack the empty solo cup right into Tommy’s chest.

“I need another.”

He wobbled just a little and Tommy put his hand on his hip to steady him. Lovett gave him a look but didn’t wiggle out of Tommy’s grip, so Tommy left his hand there, lightly. 

“I’m not your beer wench,” Tommy protested, losing the battle not to grin when Lovett leered at him. His face just looked really dumb.

They’d settled into a corner where they could watch the beer pong tournament, or at least Tommy could watch it while Lovett complained about one of his classes. 

With dignity, Tommy took the solo cup, shaking his head even as he trooped off to the keg. 

“I appreciate you!” Lovett called after him. Tommy flipped him off over his shoulder and smiled at the sound of Lovett’s bark of laughter, cup in hand, task to complete. 

It was like at the beginning with Katie, kind of, when they’d first gotten together last spring. He’d forgotten how nice it was, having someone along at these things. Squiring them around, making sure they had something to drink. Introducing them to people. Keeping them occupied. It was good to have a job. 

There was a line for the keg, but Billy was manning the tap and he waved Tommy up when he saw him.

“Yo,” he said mildly as he filled Lovett’s cup, handing it over as Tommy exchanged it for his own. 

Tommy nodded since Billy probably wasn’t looking for more than the bare minimum response. Billy was a relatively inoffensive pothead but it wasn’t like him and Tommy ever enjoyed any deep talks. 

Billy handed the second cup back full and looked at Tommy, eyes bloodshot. “Haven’t seen much of you around lately.” 

That wasn’t really true, because he’d been at Exec Board that Monday and listened to Billy argue with Trevor for forty-five excruciating minutes about ideal tee-times for the golf outing in the spring, but rather than point this out, Tommy shrugged. 

“It’s weird, seeing you and Favs on your own so much this semester.”

Billy didn’t sound accusing or anything, he was way too stoned to pull that off, but Tommy frowned anyway. “I see Favs all the time.” 

“Okay,” Billy said agreeably.

“Me and Favs are fine,” Tommy pushed anyway.

Billy nodded. “For sure, man.” He was already looking over Tommy’s shoulder at the next person in line, but Tommy stepped into his line of vision.

“Why, has Favs said something?” 

Forehead creased, Billy just looked baffled. “No?” 

“Okay,” Tommy said slowly. Then what the fuck was the fucking problem?

“It’s just weird.”

“What, I can’t come to a party at my own fucking frat without holding Favs’ hand?” 

Billy took a drink out of his own cup, calmly ignoring the grumbling in the line behind Tommy as held everyone up. “Alright, simmer down.”

“Me and Favs are fine.”

“Yeah, you said.” Billy blinked. He looked over Tommy’s shoulder. “So what’s the deal with your boy?”

Tommy jerked slightly, involuntarily. “Who, Favs?” He rubbed the back of his wrist on his forehead, feeling drunker than he had a minute ago. “I said we’re fine, jesus. Let it go.” 

“Not Favs, I mean that short loud guy, you know. Who’s been hanging around all the time with you. You know, with the face?” Billy gestured vaguely at his own.

“What face?” 

“You know, kind of bitchy.”  
  
“Fuck off,” Tommy shot back because now he was reasonably sure they were talking about Lovett. “It’s not—whatever.” He felt on alert, thinking about Favs thinking he was avoiding him, or if he was talking to other guys in the house about it, or if he’d started to suspect something about Tommy and Lovett— 

“Sorry, my bad.” Billy looked bored, already moving on. “Well, anyway. You better check on him.” He gestured back over Tommy’s shoulder with a jerk of his chin.

“What?” Tommy spun around, sloshing a little beer onto the floor in his haste. 

Over by the nook by the stairs where he’d left Lovett, Caleb was talking to him. It didn’t look heated from the outside, but something about the way Lovett was holding himself made Tommy start over immediately. 

It took a minute to work his way back through the crowd. More people had come in the time it had taken him to get more beer and he tried not to shoulder into people too hard, but he could see Caleb was saying something to Lovett and he watched Lovett’s eyebrows go high, and Tommy didn’t really give a shit about being polite anymore.

“Excuse me,” he muttered and shoved through a group of vaguely familiar brothers from another frat, ignoring their protests. 

“Go fuck yourself,” he was close enough to head Lovett say loudly now, just as Caleb shot back, “Watch yourself.” 

Tommy pushed through another group, just in time to see Lovett stomping his way upstairs. 

“Lovett!” he called after him, but Lovett either ignored him or didn't hear. “What the fuck.” He set his beers on the bottom step and turned to Caleb, who was also watching Lovett storm away, a little too coolly for Tommy’s taste.

“What the hell?” Tommy shoved him hard on the shoulder. “What did you say to him?”

Caleb glared at Tommy, knocking his hands away. “Nothing, jesus. Relax. That fucking guy is just fucking annoying.”

Lovett was, objectively, an annoying person most of the time, but hearing Caleb call him that pissed Tommy off. “Fuck you, dude. No, he’s not.”

Caleb looked skeptical. "I mean you know he’s gay, right?”

Tommy squinted at him. “Yeah? So?”

“Don’t you think he comes on a little strong?” 

“What in the fuck? How is that any of your business?”

Tommy hadn’t gotten into a fight since rushing his freshman year. Over the years he had wanted to punch every single member of the house at one point, with the possible exception of Favs, and had learned to suppress that urge through sheer force of will.

He felt on the verge of breaking that streak. 

“Well, he’s always around, dude. You and Favs bring him here all the time, and it’s a little obvious, bro. It’s embarrassing. He’s like, gagging for it.” Caleb took a gulp of his beer, glancing away.

Tommy shoved him again, making Caleb spill at least some of his beer on his shirt. “What in the _fuck_ does that mean?” He shouted so loud that a group of girls nearby turned to stare.

“Dude, what the fuck.” Caleb eyed him warily, like he didn't understand why Tommy was getting so upset. “It means I think he’s fucking into you, dude.” 

Curling his hands into fists at his sides, Tommy took a breath, trying to chill the fuck out. They were at a party, they were at their own party. He needed to chill. “How the fuck is that your business, Caleb, jesus?” Caleb opened his mouth but Tommy had already decided to move on. It didn’t matter, what mattered is that Caleb had obviously said something that had upset Lovett, and that couldn’t happen. “And that’s not the point. The point is, you don’t get to say shit to him.”

“Alright,” Caleb said slowly, dubiously. “If you want the whole house thinking you’re cool with that guy wanting to get down on his knees for you and Favreau whenever you snap your fingers, whatever. That's your call.”

“He’s not hooking up with Favs,” Tommy said irritably. Not for lack of trying, he amended silently, but didn’t add out loud because it didn’t feel constructive.

Raising his eyebrows, Caleb said, “He’s not with _Favs_ , huh?”

“No. He’s sucking _my_ dick.” Caleb’s eyebrows went higher, which somehow made it even more satisfying to finish with a flourish. “And I’m sucking his, so leave him the fuck alone, okay?”

It took Caleb what felt like an eternity to cotton on, and then to recover. “Oh, shit.” He barked out a laugh and winced. “Sorry, shit. Okay. You’re serious? Okay. My bad.”

He still looked a little ill, but he did nod, albeit uneasily. He might be a dick but he was a year under Tommy and Tommy outranked him, so he could shut the fuck up as far as Tommy was concerned. 

“You got a problem with him, come to me. You got it?”

Caleb held up both hands, one still holding his mostly-empty beer. “Got it. My bad.”

Tommy wasn’t sure if he really meant it, but he couldn’t deal with it right then. He was determined to get to Lovett.

So, of course, it took him over a half hour to find him.

Tommy had assumed he’d gone up to Tommy’s room to fume, but by the Tommy had gotten up there, he was gone.

At first he was convinced he had just stormed off and gone home, but then Tommy did another loop of the house, avoiding Caleb and Billy and every fucking idiot he lived with, and Lovett must have been one step ahead because when Tommy went back up to check one last time, he opened his bedroom door and saw Lovett sitting on the bed scowling at the floor.

His feet barely touched the ground. He looked like a little kid. 

Tommy breathed out slowly, relieved. Surprisingly so. He closed the door behind him softly and watched Lovett’s head jerk up.

“Sorry,” Tommy said, padding into the room, feeling out of breath as the sounds of the party drifted up in muted strains through the floor. "I'm sorry about Caleb."

“Why are you apologizing for him?” Lovett’s eyes were slits. “Don’t apologize for some asshole.”

“I’m not!” Tommy argued hotly. “I’m apologizing for putting you in that situation.”

Lovett rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, you fucking loser. Shut up. That’s so dumb.”

Instantaneously going from concerned to riled up, Tommy stepped closer so he could talk-yell into Lovett’s face. “That’s not fucking dumb, it’s being fucking self-aware enough to know when you’re wrong—”

“Oh, okay, you’re _sooo_ smart and brave for apologizing for something you didn’t even do, wow, Tommy, can I suck your dick now?”

For a split second, Tommy wanted to throw his head back and yell in frustration. He glared at Lovett instead, whose shoulders were hunched up near his ears like he was ready to snap and run away at the same time.

Tommy had brought him to this party, after all. Even if Lovett wouldn’t let him apologize, Tommy knew who was at fault, really.

“Jesus christ, what are we even fighting about?” Tommy dragged his hand through his hair. “Someone was mean to the guy I’m sleeping with and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, is that so fucking out of line?”

Lovett crossed his arms over his chest. “No. It’s not.” He still managed to make even that sound argumentative, though. 

Taking a step closer, Tommy dared to put a hand on Lovett’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for whatever Caleb said.”

Shrugging, Lovett didn’t move away from Tommy’s touch. “It’s fine. I’m sorry for embarrassing you in front of your frat idiots.”

“I’m not embarrassed. You didn’t embarrass me. _I’m_ embarrassed, shit. We’re not usually a bunch of homophobic assholes, and I don’t know why Caleb even thought it was his business to talk to you.”

“I think he thought he was protecting you,” Lovett said, grudgingly. “Like, from the big bad gay outsider.” 

Tommy snorted. “You are not big or bad.” He put his hand on Lovett’s other shoulder, noticing the way his fingers nearly spanned the width of his shoulder blades. Slowly, he drew Lovett in, surprised when Lovett allowed it, letting Tommy hold him against his chest. 

They stood like that, Lovett’s arms creeping up around Tommy’s waist after a few moments, gently rocking back and forth, a strange softness unfurling in Tommy’s chest that wasn’t as unfamiliar as he might have liked.

After a long stretch, Lovett said, “It’s loud here,” his voice muffled into Tommy’s shoulder. “Want to stay at my place tonight?” 

Tommy went completely still. He didn’t want to startle Lovett into taking it back, because surely he’d misspoken, but they’d never spent the night together before. He’d never thought Lovett wanted to do that, with Tommy at least. Especially not after some asshole at Tommy’s house was actively a shithead to him. 

“Um,” he said articulately. He ran his hand down Lovett’s back. “Okay.” 

Tommy did his best not to hover as they left the house but it was mostly a lost cause. As they pushed through the tangle of people near the keg he stepped in front, keeping a hand on Lovett’s skinny wrist to tow him along behind him. 

“I can walk on my own,” he groused, staying close enough that Tommy could feel Lovett’s annoyed exhale against his shoulder blade. He didn’t pull his hand free of Tommy’s hold.

“Keep it together, we’re almost out,” Tommy said, holding his hand a little tighter.

They passed by Caleb and a few of the others near the stairs. Tommy slowed, half-wanting to stop and knock the smarmy look off Caleb’s face, the other half wanting to take Lovett’s hand where he was holding it and physically shove Caleb’s face in it.

But Lovett nudged him forward with a poke to the back. “Let’s just go,” he muttered.

Caleb and the others had the grace to look slightly chagrined at Tommy’s glare, so apparently, word had already spread. Great, that was great. Hopefully, they just remembered they didn't really give a shit about Tommy and forgot to even mention it Favs when he got back.

But by then Tommy and Lovett were already out in front of the house, a cold wind whipping up leaves on the sidewalk in the sudden quiet outside the party.

Tommy looked down to see Lovett staring at Tommy’s hand on his wrist. Tommy loosened his fingers and let go, stepping away.

“So,” he said, rocking back on his feet. He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops but felt too dorky and pulled them back out. “After you?”

Lovett’s apartment was empty when they got there. It made the silence feel like it was ringing as Tommy followed Lovett into his bedroom and they stood staring at his single bed together.

“How do you usually sleep?” Tommy asked after an interminable silence.

“Uh, I don’t know, boxers maybe?”

Lovett rolled his eyes and Tommy laughed. “What, do you wear a sleeping gown or something like the grandparents in Willy Wonka?”

“That’s not the actual name of the book,” Lovett corrected pedantically. He slithered into sweatpants and pulled on a long-sleeved t-shirt. At Tommy’s expression, he scowled. “I get cold, it’s not a big deal, not everyone has your horrid eastern seaboard metabolism.” 

“You’re from New Jersey,” Tommy mumbled, staring at the soft edges of Lovett all dressed for bed. 

Tommy pulled his shirt off as Lovett clambered into bed and pointedly turned on his side to stare at the wall. Gingerly, Tommy climbed in after him and hesitated before resting his arm gently on Lovett’s side.

It was almost unbearably awkward. Tommy didn’t think they’d ever been this close before without one of them getting off before, but for some reason even though Lovett’s ass was almost cradled against Tommy’s crotch, he wasn’t immediately in the mood. He kept thinking of Lovett’s face when he found him in Tommy’s bedroom, pale but for two sharp dots of color on his cheek. How he wouldn’t look Tommy in the eye.

It made pushing for a hookup the farthest thing from his mind. Instead, he wanted to pull Lovett closer, but Lovett kept fidgeting, kicking his legs and shifting on his side under Tommy’s arm, not actively moving away but Tommy still got the feeling he wouldn’t welcome being held just yet.

Despite Lovett’s squirming, Tommy felt himself settle in. Lovett had some kind of thick mattress topper and it was way more comfortable than Tommy’s bed. And it had been months since he’d slept with another person, and he’d almost forgotten how nice it felt to lie down next to another warm body, even one as wiggly and prickly as Lovett's.

His eyes drifted shut, his body feeling heavy when it occurred to him to wonder if Lovett had ever shared a bed with someone before. Tommy had no idea how to settle him by addressing it directly, so he tried to back into it.

Slowly, he cupped his hand around Lovett’s hip and squeezed. “Hey,” he said, “thanks for letting me stay over.”’

“Hey, you’re welcome,” Lovett said in his patented deep I’m-mocking-you-frat-idiot voice. But he didn’t move away from Tommy’s hand and after a long moment, he shifted slightly back, until his shoulder blade touched Tommy’s chest.

Cautiously, Tommy draped his arm farther until it was wrapped around Lovett’s narrow chest and his hand was tucked under Lovett’s opposite shoulder, wedging his free arm under the pillow and Lovett’s head.

Lovett made a sound like he was on the verge of saying something snarky, but then he didn’t. He exhaled, slightly shaky, and relaxed, bit by bit until he was boneless in Tommy’s grasp.

Tommy could feel Lovett’s heart beating hard against his ribs. It took a while for it to settle, and only then did Tommy begin to slowly unwind himself.

He pressed his nose to the back of Lovett’s soft neck.

“Night,” he mumbled, mush-mouthed, suddenly so tired. For all his sharpness, Lovett was surprisingly soothing to cuddle. He was like a stuffed animal, if stuffed animals were skinny and had cold feet. 

Tommy was already drifting when he heard Lovett whisper, “Yeah, you too.” He brought his hand up to clasp Tommy’s wrist, tentative but not letting go, and then Tommy was asleep.

 

*

 

After that, Tommy no longer felt like he needed to wait to stumble upon Lovett organically at the frat. He could hunt him down on his own. Which made him sound like a creepy predator, but Lovett didn’t seem to mind, and it was more efficient anyway.

Tommy kept catching himself smiling at nothing, or laughing suddenly as he walked to class. Maybe it was from getting laid regularly again. His limbs felt heavy and loose all the time. 

Each time felt farther and farther from an angry hookup. It was kind of—fun, really. Catching time between classes, or heading to Lovett’s after the library to make out and get off and maybe nap in his tiny messy bed. 

Things had migrated from whenever Tommy could catch him at the frat to mostly at Lovett’s tiny apartment on Gorham that Tommy eventually learned he shared with four unfriendly nerds who spent most of their time sneering at Tommy and refusing to talk to him.

“Why do they hate me so much?” he asked one day, totally bemused as one of Lovett’s three girl roommates rolled her eyes with impressive ferocity when all Tommy had asked her was, “What’s up?”

Lovett snorted. “Truly spoken like someone who has never been shoved into a locker before.” 

“Yeah?” Tommy said, not getting it at first. Then his mouth curved down. “Wait, that actually happened to you? I thought that was just in movies.”

From where he was rifling through an unkempt sheaf of papes in his backpack, Lovett rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you go to boarding school? Isn’t bullying like a fine upper-class tradition?”

“Maybe? I don’t know.” Tommy was lonely plenty at school, and he didn’t have a ton of friends, but mostly he spent his time reading in his room or hanging out with some of the less meatheaded guys on the lax team and if there was bullying to be had, Tommy never saw it. “You _actually_ got shoved into lockers?” He just couldn’t move on from that.

He watched Lovett shrug, vaguely uncomfortable. “I mean, only a couple times, I don’t want to overstate.”

Only a couple times felt like way more than the normal allotment of times for that to happen, which should really be zero, in Tommy’s opinion.

“They’re just protective,” Lovett said, moving on while Tommy was still distracted by the thought of high school bullies. “Lindsey and Tara and Vanessa and Kyle. They think they’re helping. It’s not a big deal.”

Tommy wasn’t sure what they had to be protective about, especially with Tommy.

He followed Lovett into his room anyway. They’d been spending most of their time here lately. Tommy didn’t like bringing him around the frat after the bullshit with Caleb, and he hated sitting off like a weird loner in the corner watching Favs and Lovett sit with their heads together and giggle, so he found himself actively plotting more and more to get Lovett to bring him back to his apartment, and Lovett never argued, especially after all the bullshit with Caleb. 

Favs knew something was up, Tommy could tell. But he was hoping that if he just avoided it, Favs would let it go and Tommy wouldn’t have to talk about it with him.

It was a feeble plan, but it was all he had at the moment.

 

*

 

Favs had started doing this thing where he kept looking at Tommy, nonplussed until Tommy got tired of catching him doing it out of the corner of his eye.

He was rifling through the top cabinet looking for his granola bars that he was reasonably sure Lovett had stolen when he finally, cracked, turning to find Favs watching him.

He jumped, hand flying to his chest. “ _Fuck_ ,” he breathed. “Make noise when you move. You’re like fucking Lovett, just lurking around here all the time.”

Favs propped a hip against the counter, a notebook tucked under his arm, watching him. “Man, you’ve been complaining a lot about Lovett,” he observed mildly. “Is it really that big of a problem when I have him over? We can, like, hang out somewhere else, if it’s bothering you that much.”

“I’m not bothered. Jesus, I barely even know the fucking guy.” Giving up on his quest for a snack, he sat back down at the kitchen table, staring down at his business management textbook, scanning the lines without really reading anything.

Favs was still watching him. Sometimes Tommy forgot how eerily, inconveniently perceptive he could be.

“What?” he asked finally, a little irritable.

“I don’t know,” Favs said slowly. “You’re being all weird.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” Favs insisted, patient. “You've been all smiley recently, and you're never around.”

“No I’m _not_ ,” Tommy insisted, and then, “I smile all the time, smiling doesn’t mean I’m being weird.”

Favs sighed. It had a very _I'm not mad just disappointed tone and I'm your best friend so you shouldn't keep things from me_  tone to it. "Fine." He sat down across from Tommy, clearly deciding to Move On For Now. “Lovett’s having people over this weekend, you want to go?” 

“What?” Why hadn’t Tommy known about that? What, Lovett just didn’t invite him to stuff now?

He could feel Favs' eyes on him still but he refused to give in and look up from his textbook.

Favs settled in across him, setting the notebook down. “You’ve just been weird, lately," he said again. Too thoughtful for Tommy's taste.

“You’re weird, like, all the time.”

“Cool deflection. But seriously, Tommy, what’s the deal?” 

“There’s no deal,” Tommy said firmly. “I’m fine.”

“Things okay with your dad? Have you just been stressed?”

Not for the first time, he regretted ever getting stoned and telling Favs about high school and his thrilling, angst-ridden teenage tale of anxiety attacks. “Jesus, Favreau. They’re fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” 

“So. Lovett’s party. You down?”

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s go hang out with a bunch of pretentious nerds, whatever.”

He tried to be as casual as possible. Favs didn't look completely convinced, but he settled into his own studying finally.

Tommy had a feeling he'd at least bought himself a little more time while he figured out what the hell he was doing.

 

*

 

The good thing was, Lovett actually went to the library a lot. And Tommy was always at the library himself because the deeper into the semester he got the more he felt like he was drowning, plus he was increasingly faced with the uncomfortable realization that he maybe didn’t mind being around Lovett at all anymore, in a way he didn’t feel very comfortable examining too closely. 

The less good thing was, Lovett was a much less goal-oriented studier than Tommy.

“Come on, hurry up. I’m bored,” he said one afternoon when Favs, bored by pretending to read for his Civ class, had already gone back to the house to bug Trevor about smoking up and left Tommy and Lovett alone on the third floor at a table tucked away in the back. “I want to go back to my place and suck your dick.” Lovett was mostly whining under his breath but it felt like he was shouting it in the near silence of the library.

He kept reaching over and pulling at Tommy’s textbooks, turning the pages of his notebook, being generally annoying. 

Lately, Tommy had gotten better at ignoring him when he was like this. He supposed it was a natural side effect of getting off with someone regularly, was you learned to overlook their foibles. And more worryingly, a lot of the time he was becoming less and less annoyed in the first place, which was—a problem. He wasn’t sure how, but it was.

But today, Tommy had like, five days of coursework to finish in the span of one night. He was exhausted, and even though he would also rather be back at Lovett’s fucking around, he also felt like he was standing in the middle of a flooding basement with water up to his neck, and the longer Lovett kept being distracting, the less Tommy could help it when he finally, just— _snapped_.

“I’m not you or Favs, okay,” he burst out. “I actually have to work my ass off to get halfway decent grades. I’m not like you.”

Startled, Lovett leaned back. “Okay.”

“I know it’s just a stupid fucking business degree but I still have to work at it, okay? I’m not some effortless genius. I can’t half-ass it.”

“Okay,” Lovett repeated.

Gradually, Tommy relaxed when it was evident Lovett wasn’t going to fight him. Lovett was still watching him, though, head tilted.

“Is your family, like—really big on grades?” he asked cautiously. Tommy could hear the subtext: _why are you like this?_  

Tommy shrugged. “Kind of. Not more than any other family.” He had no idea why he was like this. He knew he was just kind of an unbearable person to be around most of the time. He used to push against it, try to force himself to be more laid back, pretend he didn’t care too much about everything, but he’d more or less made his peace with it now, as he got older and it didn’t seem to be getting any better with time.

Lovett leaned into him. “Hey, Tommy. It’s cool, okay?” The slight pressure of Lovett’s shoulder against his was grounding. Tommy took a deep breath. “I don’t have anywhere to be. Just do your work. I’m fine.”

He knew Lovett was mostly done with his problem sets and was only pretending to work on his outline for his philosophy essay now. Tommy would probably need at least another three hours to finish all his work. 

“You don’t have to stick around,” he said, guiltily, because he kind of did want Lovett to stay, even if he didn’t want Lovett to talk too much or be completely distracting. It was just nice, being able to look up every half hour or so and look at what Lovett was doing, go and get another diet Coke when Tommy was getting more coffee.

Lovett rolled his eyes. “You’re not the boss of me. I want to stay, so I’m staying.”

“I’m not trying to boss you around,” Tommy insisted, aggrieved.

But Lovett was already crossing his arms stubbornly. “Stop trying to kick me out of the library. This is public space. I’m allowed to stay.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Annoyed, Tommy turned back to his laptop, typing out an angry sentence on a presentation slide, then going back to delete it, because it was stupid.

This was what happened, the mean, honest voice in his head said. He fooled someone into thinking he was good to be around, and then after barely any time, his true asshole personality revealed itself, and no one truly wanted to be around him then.

After a few minutes, he stopped scowling. When he looked up, Lovett was messing around with his phone, leaning easily back in his chair.

“Stop looking at me and finish your homework, you big dummy,” Lovett scolded without looking up.

He refused to stare at him, but what that meant functionally was that Tommy stared at his textbook and imagined Lovett glaring at his notes across the table so clearly, Tommy might as well have been staring at him.

Out of nowhere, Tommy heard himself blurt out, “So I’m not cool enough to come to your pretentious house party?” 

Shit. He hadn't even realized he was still thinking about that. That it was bothering him.

Lovett made a face. “Well, obviously you’re not cool, but also, I figured you wouldn’t _want_ to come to my pretentious house party.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to go?” Tommy demanded, heated. “I mean, we’re—friends, now. Right?”

Lovett cocked his head, studying him. “Right,” he said slowly. “Okay. We’re friends.”

“Don’t let me force you or anything,” Tommy grumbled. “You don’t have to invite me to your stupid party, you dick.”

Lovett shifted on his elbows. He met Tommy’s gaze. “Tommy. Sweet Tommy. Would you please do me the honor of coming to hang out with my roommates you can’t stand this Saturday so you can sit around and inevitably complain about how much you hate the music and the beer and the things we’re talking about?”

Tommy grinned. He leaned forward until their faces weren’t very far apart, Lovett smirking back at him in a way that made Tommy feel crazy.

“Yes. Yes, a thousand times, yes, you asshole.”

 

*

 

Favs and Tommy stopped at the liquor store on the way, but Tommy had to stop Favs as he went for the case of New Glarus. “Wasting your money,” he said wearily and pulled out the 32-pack of Keystone. It literally hurt to pay for it, when he had the choice of anything else in the store.

“Wow.” Favs sounded impressed. “You won’t even let us buy Keystone kegs for parties.”

“Because it’s garbage beer and no one should drink it.” When Favs just raised his eyebrows at the case in his arms, Tommy rolled his eyes. “Have you ever seen him drink any good beer? Ever?”

Favs puzzled. “Well. I mean. I don’t think I remember?”

Tommy wished he had that luxury.

Back outside, they walked toward Lovett’s house, Tommy trying not to too obviously lead the way. He felt Favs’ eyes on him but ignored him.

Favs stuck his hands in his pockets as they strolled along. “Did you pick your shift for the service project this weekend? I didn’t see your name on the board.”

“Shit.” Tommy had completely forgotten about the stupid volunteer project. They did it every semester and somehow it had completely slipped off his radar.

“Well, you should go in the morning. That’s when I’m going.” Favs laughed, a little forced. “It’d be nice to see you for once.”

“Clinger,” Tommy said but knocked his shoulder against Favs. He had been a little out of pocket recently. He wasn't totally oblivious. “I can do the morning with you."

Favs smiled, looking pleased, and pointed up ahead as they turned the corner onto Lovett's block. "It's up there." Tommy nodded, keeping his face neutral.

They walked up the steps to the porch and Tommy shifted the case of beer onto his other hip to yank at the doorknob in the weird counterintuitive way Lovett was always nagging him about because it always stuck in the frame. As it popped open, he turned to see Favs eyeing him.

“What?” he asked.

Favs shook his head. “Nothing.” He still had a weird look on his face.

The distinct sound of shitty whiny music and people talking loudly to each other trickled down the stairs and they started up, Tommy pushing open the door.

He walked through the living room toward the sound of some typically annoying whiny music, Favs trailing behind.

“Have you been here before?” Favs asked, confused, as Tommy automatically turned to throw his coat on the couch.

Shit. “Um. I—borrowed his bike, once,” he said, thinking fast.

Favs’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought he only had the scooter.”

“Well.” Tommy thought Favs might be right. “He only rides the scooter. For the aesthetic. He’s such a dickhead.” He sounded not quite as acidic as he was going for, and Favs seemed to notice, but he didn’t comment.

Instead, they both sidled into the living room. It wasn’t a frat party, but there was a decent crowd. Tommy didn’t realize he was scanning the room until his eyes caught on Lovett in the corner, gesticulating expansively about something. He was too far away for Tommy to make out the words but he found himself smirking anyway, the familiar sharp edge of Lovett’s voice carrying easily across the room.

“Lovett!” Favs called out, waving. "Hey, guys!"

There was a chorus of friendly hellos back, and Tommy groaned in annoyance.

Of course, all of Lovett’s asshole roommates loved Favs.

When Lindsey, easily the meanest of the roommates, smiled indulgently as Favs sidled by, Tommy couldn’t help but feel a little bit indignant.

Favs kept on his way to say hi to Lovett, leaving Tommy with the beer and Lindsey giving him a cold, assessing look.

“Why,” he demanded, waving a hand in Favs’ direction. “Why are you guys so nice to him?”

Lindsey narrowed her eyes at him. “At least he’s oblivious to whatever homoerotic rumblings are going on in there. You’re just stringing Jon along.” 

She’d certainly had that locked and loaded.

“What the fuck? Stringing _who_ along?” He realized he was almost yelling and forcefully lowered his voice. “We’re hooking up! Together, both of us. There’s no stringing. Not a single string. We’re on the same page.”

Eyebrows raised, Lindsey crossed her arms. “Really. Same page. That’s where you guys are at.”

“Yes.” It sounded like a question. Tommy thought they were. Weren’t they? “Whatever. I’m putting the beer away.”

“By all means,” Lindsey said, waving him away like she was the queen. What an asshole. 

Tommy made his way to the kitchen, passing Lovett where he was regaling Favs with some story that he'd probably told Tommy a dozen times before. He still paused because he felt like he had to, but it was a struggle to make his face relax. He kept feeling like he was grimacing.

“And so I told Jason, I hate to risk my grade, but I think this is where I fucking kill you,” Lovett finished on a flourish, beaming when Favs threw his head back to laugh. 

Tommy tried to smile like a normal person but it was still a struggle.

Lovett looked up. “Why is your face doing that?”

“Good to see you too, Lovett,” Tommy said, rolling his eyes.

“You just look like you’re in pain.”

“I’m not in pain. I’m fine.” He didn’t mean to sound so snappy. He held up the beer. “I was just going to put your shitty beer in the fridge.”

“Craft beer is a capitalist delusion,” Lovett insisted immediately, in a complaint Tommy had heard myriad variations of before. “All you need is for it to get you drunk. It all tastes the same. There’s no reason to waste money on fancy hipster nonsense." 

Tommy eyed Lovett’s nonsensical hipster shirt pointedly, which said “May the mass time acceleration be with you” in the Star Wars font. “Dude. Come on.”

“Don’t bully me,” Lovett said blithely, turning away. “I’m talking to my good friend Favs, I don’t have the time for you right now.”

It was just a joke. This was just how they talked to each other. Tommy reminded himself of that, and he still found himself clenching his jaw. “Fine.”

He left for the kitchen before Lovett could say anything, and no one called after him, he noted sourly. 

On his way back Tommy took a detour down the hall to the bathroom. He splashed water on his face, everything feeling familiar but off-kilter when it wasn’t just him and Lovett and a few hostile roommates scattered in the apartment. 

Instead of going back over to watch Lovett be hilarious at Favs, Tommy found himself wandering into Lovett's bedroom, quiet and empty and removed from the party. He just needed a minute.

He sat on Lovett’s bed, trying to ground himself. He pulled his phone out, dicking around on it for a minute, then stuffed it back in his pocket.

He didn't notice how long he'd been sitting there, alone in a bedroom with a party just a wall away like a true loser, until he heard the door open.

“You lost?”

He turned to see Lovett leaning in the doorway, shoulder on the doorframe. He pointed over his shoulder in the direction of the living room. “Party’s that way.”

“I actually came in here to steal a shirt,” Tommy said. Looking at Lovett hovering in the doorway made it feel like some weight fell away from Tommy's shoulders. He tried to turn his grin into more of a smirk, like something someone who possessed more chill than him would wear. “You know, just a normal thing regular people do at parties.” 

Lovett crossed his arms. “And I, a gracious host, would never begrudge you such a normal request. Of course.” 

The smirk was a lost cause. Tommy crossed his own arms, nodding, cheeks hurting a little bit from smiling. “Of course. Checks out.”

He stood up from the bed and walked to Lovett, who stepped into the room and closed his door behind him.

“Why’d you come hide in here?” 

Tommy shrugged. He reached out an arm to reel Lovett into his side. “I don’t know. Just...a little crowded, I guess.” 

“You live in a frat house that holds at minimum four parties a week.” 

“Yeah, and sometimes it’s nice to be somewhere quiet for a minute.” 

Lovett stepped closer until he had to crane his neck to see Tommy. 

Surprisingly tentative, he pushed up on the balls of his feet and pressed a kiss to Tommy’s jaw.

Tommy’s hands tightened on Lovett’s waist, immediately down for it.

Something about getting off with Lovett, with Favs none the wiser down the hall, obviously charming Lovett’s roommates while Tommy made Lovett whine and come under his hands, was really, really doing it for him. 

Except when he nosed along Lovett’s jaw, trying to catch his mouth for a kiss, he noticed Lovett was acting weird. 

He kept plucking at the buttons on Tommy’s shirt and avoiding his eye.

He caught Lovett’s wrist to still his fidgeting. “Lovett, we don’t have to do anything if you’re not—in the mood, or whatever.”

Lovett's dark eyes were like pools in the dim light. It made Tommy feel on edge, like Lovett was waiting for him to do something and Tommy had no idea what it was supposed to be, and whatever he was going to guess would probably be wrong.

He wanted to say something that would make Lovett settle. He had no idea what that might be. Probably something comforting or at the very least smooth. What he came out with was—

“I could blow you.”

Lovett drew back. “I guess.” He was chewing on his lip like he was looking for the catch.

Tommy frowned. “Alright, try to contain your enthusiasm. I didn’t think I was that bad.”

Lovett took a breath and met his eye, looking defiant. “I wouldn’t really know.”

“Uh,” Tommy said, intelligently. For some reason, his heart was starting to pound.

At Tommy’s utter bewilderment, Lovett rolled his eyes and muttered, “That was the first time.”

It took Tommy an embarrassingly long moment to cotton on. “The first time—what?”

“The other day, when you—” Lovett cut himself off, rolling his eyes again. “That was my first time ever getting head.”

“What?” Tommy asked, cycling quickly through sheer disbelief and then indignation on Lovett’s behalf, before blinking hard, confused at himself. Was he...mad at other guys for not blowing Lovett? He definitely didn’t like picturing other guys blowing him, so it didn’t seem fair for him to be mad at them for not.

He had no idea where his head was at. He shook it to clear it but it didn’t really help.

All he knew for sure was that Lovett looked ready to bolt, now that his terrible blowjob virginity secret was in the open or whatever, and also Tommy had never wanted to get his mouth on someone’s dick again so badly in his entire life.

“So, do you want me to?” Slowly, Tommy brought a hand up to rest at Lovett’s collarbone, thumb brushing in the hollow of his throat. “Because I want to.”

“Why?” The word burst out of Lovett’s mouth sharply, even as he pushed forward into the pressure of Tommy’s hand.

Instead of answering, Tommy let his hand travel up Lovett’s throat until he was cupping the back of his neck, kneading gently at the taut muscles there. Lovett watched him, mouth slack, eyes wide and dark.

Still moving slower than he wanted to, Tommy dipped his head to press a kiss to Lovett’s mouth.

He moved his other hand flat on his lower back to draw him in. Lovett made a sound in his throat and grabbed onto the front of Tommy’s shirt with both hands, pressing up just a little bit on his toes in a way that made Tommy go a little crazy. He wrapped both arms tight around Lovett’s waist and hoisted him up, pressing them more evenly against one another.

“Fucking lacrosse muscles,” Lovett grumbled into his mouth.

Tommy huffed out a breathless laugh and kissed him again, tangling their tongues together, squeezing Lovett a little tighter when he gasped.

Slowly, Tommy walked them back to Lovett’s bed, tipping back carefully so Lovett fell onto the unmade comforter and Tommy could lean over him on his hands and knees.

He pulled back and watched Lovett’s eyes flutter open. He could still hear the party going on loudly just a few rooms over but it felt so distant, a thousand miles away, as he stared down at Lovett and how his cheeks had gone all red.

He had really dark eyelashes. Tommy wanted to touch them, but that might be too weird.

“I just do,” he whispered inanely.

“What?” Lovett blinked like he had lost the plot.

Frankly, Tommy had kind of forgotten why they were talking about it instead of doing it either, and he ducked down to kiss Lovett again before either of them could get distracted. 

“Lovett! Where the fuck are you?”

The sound of Favs’ voice booming from the living room made them both jerk apart.

It took a second for Tommy to realize he wasn’t right outside Lovett’s door, about to storm in and see Tommy grinding his hips into Lovett.

“We should...get back out there, probably,” Lovett said sheepishly, sitting up and moving away from the bed with enough reluctance that Tommy felt mollified at being interrupted. Tommy let him go, arms dropping to his sides.

“Okay, you go out first. I’ll catch up.” Tommy needed to readjust anyway so it wasn’t completely obvious he was hard through his jeans. He pulled off his hat to wipe his forehead. 

“I mean.” Lovett cleared his throat. “Next time, maybe?” 

Before he really realized what he was doing, Tommy felt his mouth stretch into a truly mortifying grin. “Yeah, sure.” 

“Okay, relax,” Lovett said, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed just because you’re so sprung to hook up again. No shame there, man.” Tommy shoved him playfully, smiling wider when Lovett scowled and swatted his hand away. 

“God, the literal most annoying person in the world.” 

Lovett turned to go, and when he was at the door, Tommy called out, “Hey, Lovett?” 

“Yeah?”

“Til next time,” Tommy said, waggling his eyebrows, feeling ridiculously light.

Lovett pressed his lips together but couldn’t totally bite back the smile. “Fine. Next time.”

 

*

 

By the time midterms rolled around, Tommy reasoned he barely had the time to pick up on the side anyway. It only made sense for him to spend more and more time with Lovett. Getting off helped him concentrate, and Favs had started seeing some new girl so he wasn’t around either, and whatever. It wasn’t a thing.

He repeated that to himself when he met Lovett outside the Union for the fourth afternoon in a row after Lovett’s math lab and followed him back to Gorham. 

They passed Lindsey and Tara on the way in, and when Lovett was done making small talk and moved away, Tara flipped Tommy off behind his back, smiling as she and Lindsey left. "What the fuck," Tommy muttered to himself, and follow Lovett down the hall. 

In Lovett’s room, Tommy flopped on the bed. He tried not to feel too smug when Lovett sat down beside him and leaned lightly into his side.

“They think they’re being helpful,” Lovett said after a moment, and it took Tommy a second to realize he was talking about his roommates. So he had seen Tara. “They’re a little ridiculous sometimes.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” Tommy murmured. The more he thought about it, and the more he sat there, staring at Lovett’s bony shoulders outlined through his thin t-shirt, he guessed he could understand where the asshole roommates were coming from. He was so loud most of the time, it was easy to forget that Lovett was actually really small. Breakable. How he always glanced up out of the corner of his eye to see if you were laughing after he told a joke. 

“So what do you want to do?” Lovett asked after a while.

It caught Tommy off guard. It was the kind of thing you’d ask a buddy, even a buddy you were fucking on the side. We can have sex, or we can do something else together because sometimes we just hang out.

Because apparently him and Lovett sometimes just hung out. It was a novel idea. 

Which was not to say that just the possibility of boning didn’t have Tommy ready to go, and he rolled to his side, propping his head in his hand. “Whatever you want to do.” 

“I want to talk about how much I hate my lab partner and discuss in detail all the ways I think he deserves to fail without it impacting my own grade negatively.” Lovett lifted his chin up, daring Tommy to object. 

Tommy chuckled, scratching at his nose. “We can do that.” It honestly didn’t sound so bad. He was well acquainted with Jason the Lab Partner's many failures. He was tired anyway and listening to Lovett rant for a bit sounded soothing.

Cautiously, he reached out to rest a tentative hand on Lovett’s knee. 

He watched Lovett eye it suspiciously, then look at Tommy. They stared at each for a moment, both determined to out-wait the other.

“The thing about Jason,” Lovett said slowly, squinting. “Is he never does his share of the lab work.” Like upping the ante, he let his hand cover Tommy’s on his knee. He raised his eyebrow in challenge.

Biting his lip to keep from smiling like a doofus, Tommy said, “Man, Jason sounds like he sucks.”

“He _does_ suck,” Lovett confirmed emphatically. “A lot! And he’s always cheating off my notes.”

“How can you cheat off notes?”

“Shut it, Thomas, I’m trying to tell a story.” He wiggled down into the pillows so they were more or less facing each other. “He never listens during the lectures and then he’s always copying my notes and it’s so annoying, and I can’t even tell him to stop because if I don’t let him cheat, then he has no idea what we’re even supposed to be doing in our practicals and then I suffer, when I’m the innocent party.”

Tommy hummed, settling in. “Totally innocent.”

“Don’t patronize me.” 

“I’m not.”

Lovett kept going, and the more he talked the more Tommy really did think Jason was a dick who took advantage of Lovett by slacking off, but Lovett also kept making him laugh at weird moments. Slowly, his eyes drifted closed as he listened, and soon he was asleep. 

A few minutes or a years later, he jerked away, 

Lovett was watching him. “Hey,” he said softly. He glanced away, abashed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to watch you as you slept like we're in Fatal Attraction.” 

“Creep,” Tommy said, voice scratchy. His hand was resting on the bed near Lovett’s leg, which was bare now. Somehow in the interim Lovett had wiggled out of his jeans and was in just his boxers and socks and baggy t-shirt. The room was mostly bathed in soft shadows and felt very quiet as Tommy let the palm of his hand run lightly over Lovett’s thigh. He heard the way Lovett’s breath hitched. He glanced up and Lovett was watching him, mouth open in a small o. 

Tommy paused with his palm high on the inside of Lovett’s thigh, right at the edge of the hem of Lovett’s boxers. If he slipped his hand inside, he could grab his bare ass. 

He was hit with a truly genius inspiration and shifted closer. 

“Hey, Lovett?” 

“What?” 

“Has anyone ever...?” Tommy tapped his middle finger near the crease of Lovett’s thigh pointedly. “You know.” 

Lovett huffed. “God, you’re so weird. Use your words.” He was rolling his eyes and going a little pink, which was more or less a guarantee that he hadn’t, but Tommy had learned that nothing pissed Lovett off faster than assuming his inexperience, even when Tommy was right.

“Lovett,” Tommy said somberly, peering into Lovett’s eyes, “can I finger you?”

Lovett’s entire face screwed up in distaste, and Tommy couldn’t help but crack up.

“Ugh, that’s such a horrible word, please never say it again,” Lovett groaned.

“I was trying to spare you, earlier!” 

Lovett shoved at Tommy’s shaking shoulder. “Shut up, stop laughing.”

When he looked up, he saw Lovett trying to look stern, the corner of his mouth quirking up. It was so weird sometimes, like hanging out with a friend, except Tommy didn’t usually think about banging Favs, not anymore.

“God.” Tommy wiped at his streaming eyes. “God, your face.” 

“Don’t talk about my face.” 

Tommy squeezed Lovett’s thigh, smirking when he saw him draw in a quick breath. “Lovett. Can I...make you feel really good?” He let his finger drag down the crease of Lovett’s thigh until he felt the swell of his ass.

“Really good, huh?” Lovett laughed shakily. He was staring down at Tommy’s hand. “Nothing more attractive than humility.”

“Lovett.” He shook his leg a little to get his attention. “Can I?”

“You really want to?” Something about Lovett’s words sounded plaintive.

Scooching up, Tommy pressed a kiss to his lips. “Yeah, I really do. Can I?”

Mouth hanging open just a little, Lovett hesitated, then nodded, faintly. 

Tommy sat up to pull his shirt off then settled in to tug on Lovett’s pants. “Come on, take these off.” 

“You really going to fingerbang me with that enormous fucking watch on?” Lovett sounded breathless.

Tommy grimaced. “‘Fingerbang?’ Jesus, Lovett. How is that not worse than just saying fingering?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is that too vulgar for you?”

Choosing to move on, Tommy held up his wrist, at his admittedly clinky watch. “I can take it off? It was my grandfather’s.” 

“Is that...supposed to make me want you to keep it on?” 

"No. I guess I was just telling you. To tell you." Tommy went to unlatch it, embarrassed, but Lovett stilled his hand.

“I was just...you can leave it on,” he mumbled, flapping his hand in acquiescence, cheeks red. 

Tommy grinned and moved to lean over Lovett more firmly, chest to chest, close enough that they were breathing on each other, hand still gripping Lovett’s soft thigh. With his thumb, he tugged at the fabric of his boxers.

“Take these off,” he murmured. 

He expected Lovett to protest, make some smartass response, but as he watched, Lovett just swallowed, pulse beating visibly in his neck, and twisted a bit to kick them off. 

Before Tommy could do anything else, Lovett wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed him hard, little desperate sounds coming out of his throat now and then. 

He was a little shaky, hands grabby at Tommy’s shoulders, and Tommy didn’t want him freaking out about this. He let Lovett kiss him until he seemed more settled, relaxing into the pillows and finally sighing and releasing his death grip on Tommy’s neck.

Feeling a little unsteady himself, Tommy pressed his face into his neck. “You’re okay,” he muttered. 

“You don’t have to soothe me like I’m a spooked horse,” Lovett said. His hands were still tangled in the hair at the nape of Tommy’s neck. He kicked at Tommy’s feet. “Just do it.”

Shaking his head, Tommy pulled back. “You got any lube?” 

Grumbling, presumably at his distaste for the word lube Tommy was willing to bet, Lovett leaned out of his bed to rifle through his bedside drawer, pulling out a thing of lotion that gave Tommy a visceral sense memory of being back in boarding school, when it never would've even entered his head to buy actual lube. 

Seeing Tommy’s face, Lovett rolled his eyes. “Shut the fuck up."

“I didn’t say anything!” Tommy said, laughing.

Lovett smacked the lotion onto this chest. “Shut up.”

What Tommy wanted to do was tell him he was cute and kiss him until he forgot to be embarrassed anymore, but he didn’t. He still wasn’t sure what the boundaries were, so he set the lotion at his side instead and sat back on his knees to get Lovett situated. 

He probably looked a little slack-jawed, staring at the flush running down Lovett’s neck and under his t-shirt, his pale legs and his pink dick thick and half-chubbed in the crease of his hip, tumbled and out of breath, staring up at Tommy silent, almost unfamiliar in his quiet.

Tommy couldn’t help whatever his face was doing, though. Instead, he put his hands on Lovett’s ankles and slid them up slowly, goosebumps rising in their wake when he got to his knees, pushing them back a little to make room in between for Tommy to move closer. 

“Tommy,” Lovett said, then stopped himself.

“You okay?” Tommy rubbed his thumb on the side of Lovett’s knee. “You want to stop.” 

“No.” Lovett’s throat rose and fell as he swallowed. “No, you can—keep going.”

He looked small, sprawled alone there on his pillows, and felt too far away, so Tommy leaned in and kissed him again. It also let him bring his arm up to his hip and curve it in so he could palm Lovett’s ass, somehow both bony and soft for how skinny he was.

Lovett made a sound into Tommy’s mouth and pressed closer, holding hard on Tommy’s hips, knees coming up along his sides.

They got distracted with that for a while, rubbing against each other, both moaning whenever their dicks caught at just the right angle. Tommy felt himself losing it a little, the rhythm of his hips getting faster until he had to pull back, catch his breath.

“What?” Lovett asked, just as breathless, trying to pull Tommy back.

“I was just going to...” he brought a finger against Lovett’s asscrack and pressed in, gently.

Lovett went rigidly still.

Tommy leaned in immediately, pressed a kiss to his cheek, his forehead, his nose. “You okay? Is that okay?” 

Lovett nodded, the motion a little wobbly. 

“Here, let me,” Tommy said and ducked down to take Lovett’s cock in his mouth. 

“Jesus,” Lovett bit out, arms and legs jerking as Tommy wrapped a hand around the base. “You just—jesus.” 

Tommy hummed, focusing on blowing Lovett for a minute until he unclenched, which wasn’t a hardship anyway. He loved the sounds he heard Lovett making, how he went tense then limp as he twitched under Tommy’s mouth. 

Finally, he dared to press the pad of one finger against Lovett’s hole, just rubbing there. He tried to think of how he liked it, the few times he did this with his across-the-hall neighbor in the dorms freshman year, and the exact opposite of Dylan Franklin in the locker room after lacrosse practice, fucking christ. 

He pulled off his dick to ask, “That okay?”

“Uh...uh-huh.” Lovett’s voice cracked at the end. He arched his back, pressing into the finger, hips pushing into Tommy’s mouth. 

As stealthily as he could, Tommy let go of Lovett’s dick to rifle for the lotion and getting some on his fingers, easing the way as he pressed just the tip back inside Lovett’s ass.

“Ahh!” Lovett bit out, strangled.

Tommy slurped a line up Lovett’s dick to distract him, mouthing at the tip in the way he knew Lovett liked, at where he was most sensitive right under the head.

Lovett shot a hand out to thread his fingers through Tommy’s hair, holding tight but not yanking, just like he needed the anchor.

Tommy started a slow tempo with his finger, dragging it in and out slowly, going a little deeper each time. He stopped to add more lotion, then got back in, gratified when Lovett lifted his hips to make it easier for Tommy to slip his finger back in, rocking into it. 

“Oh, god, oh god,” Lovett muttered to himself. When Tommy glanced up, mouth full, Lovett was staring at him, eyelashes fluttering, entire face red. “Oh my god.” 

His hips moved up sharply and Tommy pulled off to cough, catching his breath and jerking Lovett off, pressing a second finger in and crooking his fingers inside, pressing on the instroke. 

Lovett’s back bowed. “Holy shit,” he babbled, “holy shit, holy shit.”

It was the loudest Lovett had ever gotten when they were hooking up, outside of arguing with each other, and Tommy’s ears felt like they were ringing with it, his own dick hard and aching but still an afterthought, everything focused on watching Lovett, making him twist and writhe, tug harder at Tommy’s hair as he curled in on himself.

Taking just the tip into his mouth, Tommy sucked hard, other hand moving faster. He tried to rub at the prostate he could just feel every few strokes and inwardly gloated every time Lovett moaned, louder and louder, until Tommy pressed in hard, rubbing and sucking until Lovett’s nails dug into Tommy’s scalp and he went rigidly still, a high-pitched whine emitting when he came in a rush in Tommy’s mouth.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I should hav—I didn't warn you,” Lovett was panting out almost immediately but Tommy barely heard him. His heart was pounding so hard it hurt. He carefully pulled his fingers out, rubbing at the rim as Lovett gasped.

He took his own cock in hand, stripping it hard as he stared at Lovett’s chest, his wet dick only barely softening on his belly, the sight of Tommy’s fingers touching Lovett’s asshole, pink and a little swollen. He glanced at up into Lovett’s eyes, who was watching him in something like twin awe and alarm and came, eyes squeezing shut, come splashing onto Lovett’s chest. 

Breathing hard, they laid in Lovett’s bed until Tommy couldn’t ignore the mess on Lovett’s chest anymore and hauled himself up.

He pulled on his boxers and moved on wobbly legs to the bathroom across the hall, silently praying that Lovett’s roommates hadn’t come home while they were fucking. He washed his hands and got a washcloth for Lovett and looked in the mirror.

Tommy was flushed on his neck and cheeks, his eyes still dilated and wild-looking. He looked like he’d fallen out of a tree or something.

He went back into the room to see Lovett with his arms around his legs. Gently, Tommy sat down beside him and held out the washcloth, waiting until Lovett sat back so he could wipe him down.

“I can do that,” Lovett protested nominally.

“It’s fine.” Carefully, Tommy wiped off the excess lotion along his ass, hungrily tracking the flush across the bridge of Lovett’s nose. 

Afterward, he settled back and pulled Lovett into his side, so they were facing each other but Lovett’s face was tucked into Tommy’s collarbone as they both lay there in a daze. Tommy’s body felt jittery, and Lovett didn’t even complain when Tommy tangled their legs together.

“You were really into that,” Lovett said quietly after a while. 

Tommy didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded. He was. He had been. 

“I didn’t think you would be.”

“Why? I’ve made you come a dozen different ways at this point, why wouldn’t I be into it?”

“It’s just...that was pretty gay.” Lovett swallowed. “And like, I know you’re not all like—. I know it’s different, for you.” 

Tommy felt nothing but deeply, deeply confused. “Is this like...an internalized homophobia thing?”

“God, no. I love being gay. It’s my favorite thing about myself.” He pulled back to glare a little up at Tommy. “You’re straight, you wouldn’t understand.”

Eyebrows raised, Tommy looked down at himself, his boxers dipping low enough that he could see the outline of his dick, still wet and soft against his thigh, then around the room where their clothes were strewn haphazardly where they’d fallen from the night before, then at Lovett’s bare shoulder, the soft curve as he hunched forward, the sheets pooled around his naked waist.

“Lovett,” he said slowly. “In what world is this straight?”

Lovett sighed. He sounded frustrated. He waved a hand vaguely in Tommy’s direction. “You know what I mean.”

Tommy really didn’t, but he saw the way Lovett’s shoulders were curved, like he was waiting for an argument, and Tommy just didn’t really have it in him, it turned out. 

Instead, he sprawled back until they were settled more evenly on Lovett’s pillows and tugged on Lovett’s arm. “Come on, weirdo.” Even he could hear how soft his voice had gone, but he decided to ignore it. “You can be all angsty while we nap. Lacrosse practice this morning was a beast, and then I had to spend like an hour blowing your mind sexually, so I’m pretty tanked right now.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Lovett moaned, but allowed himself to be pulled and settled against Tommy’s chest, a little uneasily at first, but going boneless incrementally. Faster than he did the first time they slept together, after that godforsaken party.

“It’s fine,” Tommy murmured, and let himself press a light kiss to the top of Lovett’s hair. “Just chill.” 

It felt like he was talking to both of them.

 

*

 

Even though Favs was dating and as busy with stuff on his own and their schedules just weren’t aligned the same way they were in the spring and it wasn’t anyone’s _fault_ , really, Tommy still guilty. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Favs asked finally. They were watching football in the TV room, a rare Sunday afternoon when Tommy wasn't at the library or with Lovett, and Favs had canceled plans with his new girl and it was just them, hanging out. “You’ve just seemed really, um. Kind of distant lately, dude.”

“I’m fine.” God, not this again. Tommy tried not to look too jumpy and like he was keeping a big, enormous secret from his best friend as he said it.

Favs lowered his voice like they were telling secrets. “Is it about Katie? I thought you were getting over that.”

“God, I am. I was. It’s not about that.” Why Favs was suddenly so interested in his dumb break up three months later he didn’t understand, but he didn’t trust the intent look in Favs’ eye, so he kept his head down.

“Was it, like. I know you told her about you and dudes.”

“We didn’t break up because of the dude thing, Katie was fine with that.” Well, that wasn’t completely true, but saying otherwise would just make her look bad and she really hadn’t done anything wrong. Tommy was the asshole.

“Because it’s not a big deal, messing around with another guy sometimes. A lot of guys do it. It’s totally chill.”

That snared Tommy’s attention. “Is it? I mean, you never have.”

Favs glanced away, cheeks going red. He grinned sheepishly. “Well. Never say never, you know?”

“Shit.” Tommy rubbed his hand over his face. “Since when?”

“Since this summer. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just, you know, something that happened. It didn’t really mean anything, just like it didn’t really mean anything for you, not when you’re mostly dating girls.”

Tommy wasn’t mostly dating girls. He’d mostly dated Katie, and that hadn’t worked out, full-stop. It wasn’t like a gender choice. More like, she’d been the first person he could trick into being with him for more than a few months before she realized he was totally awful to be around, most of the time.

“What are you talking about, that’s not—we talked about this, dude,” Tommy started. “It’s not an either-or thing with guys or girls, I thought you, like. Understood. It’s both, for me.”

Favs held up his hands, eyes wide and earnest. “No! I get it. I really get it now. It’s just, sometimes you do things, sometimes you try other stuff, it’s all part of being in college, it’s not a big deal, I just want you to be happy, okay?”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Okay,” he said slowly. Wary. “Thanks.” Then, something clicked. This summer. Favs had apparently gay-experimented _this summer_.

“Wait.” Unbidden, Tommy thought of Lovett rolling his eyes, talking about straight guys and their rules. Tommy had ultimately convinced himself that Lovett had just been making fun of Tommy on purpose since Tommy sure as fuck wasn’t straight. But maybe he hadn’t even been talking about Tommy at all. He’d been talking about—

"Did you sleep with Lovett?”

Favs barked out a laugh, looking shy and only slightly embarrassed. “No, not...really. More just, like. Mouth stuff.”

Tommy took a moment to give a monumental eye roll at ‘mouth stuff’ and leaned forward. “So, like. We talking blow jobs?”

Favs shrugged. “Yeah, in July.”

Tommy forced himself not to let any kind of reaction play across his face. It felt kind of like his ears were ringing. “That’s kind of weird.”

“You think?” Favs asked. He was still blushing but he was focusing in on his notebook now, turning the page, looking determined to play it cool.

Tommy looked down at his own homework a little blindly, having totally forgotten what fucking topic he was even reading about at this point. “Kind of.”

Favs tilted his head thoughtfully, then shrugged. “He just kind of asked and I figured why not. Yo, do you know if we’re supposed to have this chapter read before lecture, or is it just for the discussion section?”

Impatient, Tommy scanned the notebook in Favs’ hands. “For McGregor’s class? Yeah, that chapter and the other one, and then you gotta submit those questions before section.” Tommy shifted restlessly in his chair. “So you let him blow you?”

Favs hummed vaguely. “It just kind of happened a few times.”

Despite his best efforts, Tommy’s eyes went wide for a second. “It happened more than _once_? How many times, jesus?”

Technically he shouldn’t give a shit about this, it was months ago, it didn’t matter, he wasn’t fucking _dating_ Lovett, but it was nevertheless suddenly extremely vital that he had exact data on how and when and how many times.

His insistence caught Favs’ attention. He shrugged. “You know how he is, he wouldn’t stop asking about it. It was just a few blowjobs, why are you being so weird?”

“How many blowjobs, though?” Tommy wished he didn’t sound so creepy and intense but he felt very one-track about it all right now. He couldn’t help it.

Making a face as he squinted, mentally tabulating, Favs finally hazarded, “I don’t know, three? Maybe five?” He looked back at Tommy. “I don’t know, man. Who keeps track of shit like that?”

It was hard for Tommy to imagine a reality where blowjobs were coming at you so fast and furious that you legitimately lost count, but now didn’t seem the time to bring up that philosophical conundrum, or marvel yet again at the significantly different ways he and his best friend seemed to walk through life.

Favs was still looking at him weird. “He wanted to. I mean, he offered, dude. It wasn’t a big deal.”

Against his will, Tommy thought of how intense Lovett had been after K Klub, like he’d been upset about something. For the first time, Tommy took note of how Favs had been with some girl. Flirting pretty hard if he really thought back about it.

He thought about how Lovett always seemed to trail after Favs, going out of his way to make him laugh, how he’d duck his head when Favs really cracked up. Almost shy, if a dickhead like Lovett even know how to be shy.

Maybe three-to-five blowjobs between friends wasn’t such a little deal to him.

Favs looked up at him.“So if it’s not Katie, then what’s going on? You’ve kind of been in and out a lot lately. Have you been hooking up with someone?”

Tommy shrugged one shoulder. “Not really.”

“That feels like a fucking lie, dude, who is it? Where did you meet her?”

“God, worry less about my sex life, man, it’s weird.” Tommy pushed aside his textbook. “Besides, we need to figure out the stuff this weekend. We need to iron out expenses, and what sororities we’re partnering with, and—”

“Jesus, fine. We don’t have to talk about your mystery lady. Can we just save frat logistics until after I read this godforsaken chapter? Please?” Favs was smiling at him, perfectly light and easy. Nothing weighing on his mind.

Must be nice, Tommy thought. Personally, he was exerting every last ounce of mental energy he had on preventing himself from picturing Lovett on his knees, staring adoringly up at Favs, Favs’ all red and squinty from smiling down at him. Shit.

Tommy let Favs push off frat planning stuff for now.

And if he kept pinching himself on the side of the leg to stop thinking of Lovett and Favs together, whatever, that was his business.

 

*

 

He didn’t bring it up to Lovett. That probably made him a coward, he could own up to that.

But he just couldn’t think about it for more than two minutes at a time without feeling itchy and out of control, and he thought maybe if he never brought it up with Lovett, pretended like it hadn’t happened maybe it would just...go away.

That worked for maybe a half hour, until he met Lovett at his place for lunch and spent the entire hour and a half trying to decipher whether Lovett wished Tommy was actually Favs. 

So maybe it was driving him slowly insane. Whatever. It was his business.

“Hey, I’m telling a very interesting and involved story that requires an active listening partner,” Lovett groused, reaching over to poke at Tommy’s wrist.

“Sorry.” Tommy rubbed at his eyes hard until he saw colors and exhaled, focusing back on what Lovett had been saying a minute ago. “So. Jason the lab partner. Bad or very terrible?” 

“ _Very_ terrible, which you’d know, if you’d been listening attentively,” Lovett said archly. He poked Tommy across the table again and then let his fingers rest lightly on his wrist. “Everything okay? You’ve been a million miles away since you got here.”

“Everything’s fine," he said gruffly. Idly, he turned his hand palm up and grabbed on to Lovett’s hand, toying with his fingers. Brooding.

So Favs had let Lovett blow him. Big deal. He let Tommy blow him way more than Favs did, and he sucked Tommy off in return, and let Tommy crowd him up against a wall and make him come, and press his fingers inside Lovett until Lovett was squirming and whining and ready to fall apart. 

He didn’t need to prove anything. He was here with Lovett right now, and maybe Lovett would prefer he was Favs but—he wasn’t, and Lovett wasn’t making him leave.

He was winning here, probably, if there was a consistent way to score things like this. If there was some way he could pull ahead, leave Favs completely in the dust.

“You want to fuck?”

Tommy heard himself blurt it out like it was someone else, in some horror and admittedly out of nowhere, which is why he could forgive Lovett jerking back like he’d been electrocuted. 

“What?” 

“Like, I can fuck you, if you want. Or the other way around. Whatever.” Tommy was mumbling like an idiot now, staring at their hands tangled together.

Lovett pulled his hand away from Tommy's grasp, and Tommy missed the delicate weight immediately as Lovett wrapped his arms around his chest. He let his hand drop to Lovett's knee instead, and as he watched Lovett kind of curl in on himself, Tommy immediately felt like a pushy asshole.

“I mean, it’s fine if you haven’t before—”

“I’ve _done_ it,” Lovett insisted sharply. He looked cagey as fuck, though.

Tommy frowned. “Okay.” He tried not to look too surprised because that seemed rude. But—if he'd never been fingered before, than how—it had seemed like he hadn't—

Lovett's foot began tapping rapidly on the linoleum. “It just—was kind of bad.”

The silence throbbed in Tommy's ears, until—“Bad?” His throat felt dry, and he had to swallow to ask, “How was it—what happened?”

Lovett caught his eye, making a face. “Jesus, don’t look so tragic, it wasn’t, like, _traumatic_. Just. Bad.”

Tommy thought of all the ways Lovett had been skittish about being touched since they'd started hooking up, and decided that he himself didn't know if he understood the distinction.

His hand was still on Lovett’s knee, which he was grateful for now. It would probably have been weird to move to touch him if he wasn’t already, but he couldn’t imagine not having a hand on Lovett for this conversation.

Eyes on the table, Lovett said, “It was someone I really liked who just didn’t really like me back and I was hung up and they weren’t and it was kind of embarrassing and it hurt and I, I guess I—kind of wanted it to be a whole romantic thing like an idiot, and they—didn’t have the same idea, I guess.” He got it all out in one breath, faux casual, a blush rising on his neck.

Tommy didn't know who this guy was, but he immediately felt capable of killing him.

He thought of Favs, who was his best friend and who Tommy would probably trust with his life, and he was suddenly furious at him. He was mad at him and whatever other faceless guys had ever just let Lovett make them feel good and didn’t think to do it in return.

“So I’m not a virgin or whatever,” Lovett said finally, ideally misinterpreting Tommy's murderous silence for something else less insane. “I know it might, like...seem like I'm—but I’m not.”

He lifted his chin, somehow defiant and unsure at the same time. Tommy was hit by this primal urge to get up and scoop Lovett out of his chair and just bundle him against his chest. He had a feeling if he tried that right now Lovett would kick him in the shins, though. He looked prickly, ready to snap Tommy’s head off at the wrong move, so he decided to move very carefully.

“Okay. That’s fine.” He cleared his throat. “We can do other stuff too. We don’t have to fuck for real.”

“What the fuck does ‘for real’ mean? Anal sex isn’t the end-all of gay sex, you heteronormative jackass.” Lovett looked furious at having said the word ‘anal’ and glared like he blamed Tommy personally for this oversight.

Tommy felt his face scrunch up. “Yeah, I know.” That was admittedly a fumble, but he was off balance in so many ways here. He leaned on his elbows on the table. “But like—do you want to try again?”

Lovett's head snapped up. “Don’t fucking make fun of me.” 

The words felt like a gut punch. “I’m not.”

Lovett cupped his hands over his own elbows and stared back down at the tabletop. “I don’t know,” he said finally.

“No rush.” Tommy leaned back in his chair, hand still on Lovett's knee, reluctant t to move it until Lovett told him so verbally. “I’ll be around.”

Lovett eyed him, definitely still on guard, but—“I’ll think about it.”

“Okay. Whatever you want.” Finally, Tommy breathed out and stretched his arms over his head performatively. “God, you’re exhausting. Let’s nap.” 

“Go nap in your own house,” Lovett snapped but stood up, shuffling close enough that when Tommy stood up, their arms touched.

The frat house had almost 150 channels of sports programming alone. This year they’d sprung for premium cable with HBO and Starz, and if Tommy went back to Langdon right now he could pick from dozens of movies, and since it was a Wednesday he’d mostly have the TV room to himself.

But instead, he was already heading into Lovett’s room to crowd onto his tiny bed to watch The OC on SoapNet, which was the only good cable channel that was included in Lovett’s shitty package.

He held the bedroom door open for Lovett, who rolled his eyes but let him do it, and he couldn’t think of a single reason to head back to the frat tonight.

 

*

 

The next time he went to Lovett’s, he was carrying way too many books because it had felt like a hassle to stop at the frat first to drop them off, and he was looking at his phone when Lovett opened the door. 

“Hey,” Lovett said. He sounded off. 

Tommy glanced up. “You good?”

Lovett shrugged. “I’m fine, jesus. Get in here.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows but followed, letting his bag thunk down next to the door. Lovett’s roommates were out, which was a rare blessing that he made a special point to cherish quietly. He was starving and made his way into the kitchen, fumbling for a box of cereal he’d bought and left here last time he and Lovett had messed around and then gone to the grocery store and gotten snacks and come home and watched The OC and messed around again and fallen asleep.

That was happening a lot now, really. It felt like it was about to happen tonight, in fact. Tommy pushed it away, focused on finding the cereal. He was starving.

“You can’t just help yourself to our food,” Lovett said, waspish, watching from the doorway with his arms crossed. 

“I bought the cereal, so yes I can, and you owe me like endless free groceries after raiding the frat kitchen, so shut up.” 

He could practically hear Lovett roll his eyes.

“God, would you get over that? I had no idea frats were so hard up for cash that you would begrudge a poor fellow student a few snacks.”

They bickered easily as Tommy located the cereal, poured himself a bowl, got Lovett some too even though he was a liar who claimed he didn’t like Lucky Charms, and that carried them all the way into the living room where they sprawled on Lovett’s tiny couch, knees and feet knocking together.

“Where are you horrible roommates at?” Tommy asked. 

“Just because they don’t like you doesn’t mean they’re horrible,” Lovett mumbled through a mouthful of cereal.

“God, swallow your food before you talk.”

"Don’t be such a baby. And they’re out, they’re at a thing. Vanessa has an art show. Then they’re going to see a band play in Sun Prairie.” There was a pause. “They’re staying across town at someone's house tonight.”

Tommy felt himself perking up. Balancing the cereal bowl in one hand, he slid the other onto Lovett’s knee. “You didn’t want to go too?”

Lovett wasn’t really looking at him. “I’ll go to the next one.” He slurped the milk out of his bowl.

“That’s so gross, dude.”

Lovett ignored him and set his bowl aside. “Were you serious?”

Tommy was inching his hand up Lovett’s leg over his jeans, distracted by the way his hand easily spanned Lovett’s skinny thigh. “About what? The milk thing? Yeah, it’s fucking gross, we’ve talked about this.” 

“Not that.” Lovett brought his hand up to squeeze Tommy’s in one quick darting movement. Startled, Tommy glanced up at him and saw Lovett staring fixedly down at their hands. “Before. What you were saying about—you know. Shit.” A blush was working its way quickly over Lovett’s cheekbones. “I don’t know why this is so weird to talk about when we’re wearing clothes.” Tommy watched, fascinated, as with his free hand Lovett scrubbed at his face. “Did you really mean it when you said you wanted to do it, or were you just fucking with me?”

It had been a few days, and Tommy was cramming for a few tests, so he thought he could be forgiven for taking a few beats to connect the dots. Then it illuminated, and his eyes widened. “In what world would I lie about wanting to fuck you?”

Lovett laughed unsteadily. “I don’t know, lots of worlds I can imagine?”

Tommy, who felt like he was getting a broader, bleaker picture of Lovett's life before college every day, supposed that was fair. He scooted closer and pulled Lovett into his side, who went stiffly and reluctantly until his face was pressed into Tommy’s shoulder.

“So you want to?” 

“Yeah,” Lovett said quietly.

“Right now?” 

“Um. Well. I guess. Or maybe. I don’t know.” 

Taking a chance, Tommy took Lovett by the elbows. “Sometimes it’s good to just, like—jump in? Before you can overthink it to much?” God, if there was one thing he knew too much about it, it was getting in your own fucking way.

Lovett smirked. It looked a little wobbly. “You’re just trying to get it in.”

Tommy laughed. “Maybe. Or the other way, whatever you want.”

“I think I want you to do it.” Lovett swallowed. “To me.” He gripped Tommy’s arms with both hands and pulled them both to their feet.

Moving cautiously, like Lovett was a feral cat or something, Tommy leaned down to kiss him. It quickly shifted as Lovett hissed and rocked up into it, teeth and tongues dragging together until Tommy was hastily walking them back to Lovett’s room because the last thing he needed was one of his asshole roommates to walk in on Tommy with his dick out. 

In the room, Lovett broke away to pull his clothes off, brisk and businesslike, like he was pulling off a bandage. Bemused, Tommy followed suit, leaving his snapback on top of his pile of clothes by the closed door.

Lovett looked at him and rolled his eyes. “You’re so ridiculous.” 

Tommy looked down at himself, his dick bobbing cheerfully against his belly, and back up at Lovett, nonplussed. “Genuinely don’t know what you mean.”

“God, just bring all of—that, over here.” Lovett scrambled onto the bed, bravado heavy, arms rigid as he sat back. 

Tommy crawled up until he was pressing Lovett down onto the comforter. He took his face in both hands, kissing him and groaning a little when their bodies lined up and he could feel the little hitch of Lovett’s hip, pressing his hot, thick dick against Tommy.

“I got stuff,” Lovett breathed out into Tommy’s mouth when they took a break. He wriggled out of Tommy’s grip, face flushed, and stretched to dig out a handful of items from his bedside table and tossed them by Tommy’s knees on the bed.

Stuff, it seemed, meant a strip of condoms and a little bottle of actual lube this time.

Something about it, the image of Lovett going to the CVS to buy condoms and lube by himself and stuffing it in his scuffed bedside table, made something in Tommy’s chest start to ache.

He pulled Lovett on top, running his hands all over Tommy’s body like he was grounding himself. He took Tommy’s hand and guided it down to his ass, biting his lip and flushing the whole while. 

Tommy took the lead, smiling and dragging his fingers into the cleft, going for the lube with his other hand.

“Fuck,” Lovett breathed out when Tommy pushed the first finger in, body going limp for the first time since Tommy had gotten to the apartment.

He let his other hand sweep up and down Lovett’s back, feeling him shiver. He bit lightly at his mouth. “Yeah? Is that good?” He curled his finger, smiling when Lovett moaned. “Do you feel good?” 

“Shut up,” Lovett hissed, in a way Tommy was completely prepared to ignore when he saw Lovett’s dick twitch at his hip.

“You’re doing good. You’re doing really good.” It was mindless nonsense but Tommy meant every word. It was heady, it always was, seeing Lovett go a little crazy, but even as his blood was pounding in his own ears, he felt strangely alert, like he had an eagle eye to every movement, every sound, cataloguing all of Lovett’s reactions. Doing everything he could to make it good. Make it _better_. 

He added another finger, relishing in the feeling of Lovett pushing his hips back into it, back arched as he leaned down to kiss Tommy, thighs straddled tight across his waist. Tommy added more lube and put in a third, watching Lovett’s face as his hissed at the stretch, then arch his back, eyes slitted.

“You’re good at that,” Lovett muttered. Tommy tried not to preen, but judging by Lovett’s eye roll, his success was limited.

Lovett had let Tommy get his fingers in him a few times since they'd first tried it, and Tommy was getting better at reading Lovett’s tells. Lovett was unsurprisingly getting better at telling Tommy what he wanted.

“Tommy, I’m ready,” he said, pressing his heels into the small of Tommy’s back. “Tommy.” 

“Stop rushing me, god.” Carefully, he pulled his fingers out, wincing when Lovett hissed. “Sorry, sorry.” He kissed Lovett’s face to calm him, leaning in at Lovett chased his mouth, slipping his tongue in, tangling it with Tommy’s.

Finally, Tommy sat back, fumbling to rip the condom wrapper open. “How do you want to do it?”

Hesitantly, Lovett turned on his front. “Like this?” He moved onto his hands and knees facing away from Tommy. 

Something about it made Tommy uneasy. “Wait.” He was probably imagining the rigid set to Lovett’s shoulders, but still. “I want to, like. Can I see your face?”

Lovett peered over his shoulder at him, looking surprised. “You mean on my back?” 

Tommy felt caught out. He shrugged. “Or, like.” He took hold of Lovett’s shoulder and manhandled him onto his side, with relatively minimal grumbling from Lovett. As Lovett settled on his side, Tommy turned him so his shoulders were almost flat on the bed, body twisted at the hips. Tommy leaned up on his elbow, arm under a pillow, his other forearm pressed near Lovett’s hip until he was mostly caving him in. God, Tommy liked that, Lovett curled up beneath him, smaller, just watching, waiting for Tommy to move.

With their chests close together, legs tangled, Tommy could duck down and kiss Lovett whenever he wanted, and it was easier to push his top knee over to the side, spreading his cheeks for Tommy to press at his warm, loose hole.

“Is it okay this way?” he asked, voice gone deep.

Lovett nodded wordlessly. He licked his lips, his hand going to Tommy’s wrist.

With a final critical assessment of the angle, Tommy grabbed a pillow and shoved it under Lovett’s far side, propping his hips up a little. He wrapped his hand around Lovett’s cock and stroked lightly. “Better?”

“Jesus christ,” Lovett breathed out. He was watching Tommy like he’d suddenly turned into an unknowable mystery, not just the frat idiot Lovett had been deigning to fuck around with for nearly two months.

He struggled only nominally to pull the condom on and lubed up, feeling clumsy under Lovett’s gaze, and then shifted closer. He put his hand on the outside of Lovett’s thigh and used the grip to press his leg into the bed, opening him. 

He pressed his mouth to just behind Lovett’s ear, a wave of nerves running through him. “Ready?” 

Lovett nodded, soundless, which didn’t help Tommy’s nerves.

Slowly, he pressed his cock in, biting his lip at the pressure, the friction, the resistance and then the give as Lovett relaxed just enough, the tip pushing in.

He gasped, the noise only slightly muffled into Lovett’s neck.

He started working his hips to press his cock in deeper and deeper, doing his best to wait for Lovett to relax. Lovett, who was completely silent still, sending Tommy further into a spiral of worry the longer he went without making a sound outside of his ragged breathing.

But he arched his back, and then Tommy was fully seated inside, balls-deep, heart banging in his chest, plastered to Lovett’s side as he waiting, trying not to pop off.

“Lovett,” he said. “Is this okay? Are you okay?” He nosed along Lovett’s neck, then pushed himself up on his elbow again to better look at his face.

The corners of Lovett’s eyes were wet. His hands were clenched tight into his messy sheets.

“Lovett?” Tommy tried not to freak out. He stayed very, very still instead. “Lovett, come on. Please.”

Lovett blinked and looked up at Tommy, then down at his mouth. At least it was something, and Tommy eagerly bent to press his mouth to Lovett’s, still buried deep, trying not to move too much until Lovett relaxed, or gave him the go-ahead, or some other sign of life. 

Carefully, Tommy took Lovett’s cock in hand where it had gone slightly soft, and squeezed.

A ragged moan burst out of Lovett’s mouth.

“Can I?” Tommy asked, begging really. He pressed forward slightly, feeling Lovett clench, then relax. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep it together. “Chris, Lovett. You feel—you feel—” 

Lovett wrapped his hand around Tommy’s, holding Lovett’s dick together. “Do it,” he said quietly, seriously. He strained to press another kiss to Tommy’s mouth. “Go on.”

As if to prompt him, Lovett moved his hips forward then, and they both both gasped loudly at the drag of Tommy’s cock sliding out.

Tommy couldn't keep himself from moving then, getting a rhythm started, trying to at least go slow to begin with. He tried to jerk Lovett off in time but it was a little off, especially as Lovett started getting loud.

It happened gradually, subtle enough that at first Tommy could barely hear it over his own animal panting, but then he heard it— 

“Ah, ah, ah, ah,” Lovett moaned out, in time with each thrust, getting louder and higher-pitched the harder Tommy fucked him. “Ah, ah, Tommy, oh shit, Tommy, ah.”

Objectively, it was one of the goofier sex noises Tommy encountered. Subjectively, it was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever heard and his hips bucked wildly forward, driving Lovett partially onto his front as Tommy tried to get control of himself, but couldn’t really. All he could do was press closer, throw a leg over Lovett’s hip, drive in harder, try to milk as many high-pitched ‘ahs’ from Lovett’s open pink mouth as possible.

Tommy was making more noise now too, unattractive grunts that he did his best to bury in Lovett’s neck, each one feeling wrenched out of him as he moved faster and faster, losing all sense of cadence on Lovett’s cock until he was just cradling it against Lovett’s belly, largely ineffective but unwilling to let go of it

He let Lovett push his hand away and instead propped himself up again on one shaking elbow to watch Lovett go to town, jerking himself off hard and rough, hips rabbiting back and forth to meet Tommy’s thrusts, mindless in chasing after his own orgasm. 

“Lovett, come on,” Tommy bit out, pulling Lovett in with a brutal squeeze of his hip. “Come on, baby, please. Come for me.”

“Ah,” Lovett breathed out, “Ah,” and then he came, whole body going taut and arched, mouth open on a silent scream.

Tommy went mostly still watching him, the come shooting up his chest, his eyes screwed shut.

When he relaxed finally, Tommy wasn’t far behind. It felt like an afterthought, staring at Lovett’s face as he gave four or five more thrusts until he was hunched over, groaning loud, filling the condom.

“Holy shit,” he muttered into the suddenly thick silence of Lovett’s bedroom. 

They were both a mess, and he was in danger of losing the condom. He pulled out slowly, wincing at Lovett’s sharp exhale. “Sorry, sorry.” He kissed the side of Lovett's face and murmured, “One second.” Lovett didn’t respond, staying still as Tommy pulled the sheet up over his hip and got up to put on his boxers and stagger to the bathroom to clean up and bring back a towel, carefully cleaning Lovett up, who was still quiet, brow furrowed as Tommy crowded back on the bed.

Tommy couldn’t get close enough, after. He knew he was clinging. He wrapped both arms around Lovett’s waist, leg thrown over his hip, mostly covering him, face pressed to the back of Lovett's neck, and it was too much, he _knew_ that, but he couldn’t make himself stop.

And still, Lovett remained quiet.

“Are you okay?” Tommy whispered, words stupidly tremulous. “Was it okay?” He pulled Lovett closer compulsively.

Lovett, who still wasn’t speaking, freaking Tommy the fuck out.

“Jon? Are you alright?” He was seconds away from asking Lovett to blink once for yes and twice for no, but then Lovett turned over suddenly, so quickly Tommy couldn’t really get a look at his face. Instead, Lovett curled in, pressing his face into Tommy’s neck, sighing heavily, a little shaky. Tommy really wished he could see him properly, but he settled for rubbing at Lovett’s back and feeling him breath against Tommy’s throat for now.

“Jon?" he tried again. "You okay? Was it okay?”

“Yeah,” Lovett whispered quietly, finally. “It was okay.”

Tommy laughed unsteadily in relief. “Wow, just okay?”

Lovett chuckled back, wetly. “Don’t fish for compliments, you know it was good.”

Tommy didn’t know that, really. It had been good for him, obviously, so good, but he’d kind of lost track of Lovett at the end, too shaky and out of control to tell for sure.

He hugged Lovett a little tighter, sliding his knee between Lovett’s legs, tangling them together. “Good,” he said. Grateful. “I’m glad.”

Lovett was still too quiet, and it was making Tommy worried. Something was off, he could tell. He needed to figure out what. But he was in Tommy’s arms for, so at least he couldn’t get away, not without Tommy noticing. And he could feel the exhaustion creeping over him. It was a struggle to keep his mind focused, eyes drifting closed.

"Okay," he muttered sleepily.

Against him, Lovett exhaled gustily. Tommy made one last mental note to check on that when they woke up, and tugged Lovett a little bit closer, before finally letting himself pass out.

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun college fact: I also used to faithfully watch SoapNet every afternoon, because it was the only good cable channel we had. my roommates and I split our time catching up on early aughts soap operas and yelling at each other for using up the 90 min limit for Megavideo to watch all other TV shows. man, what a trip down memory lane this fic is! I'm a thousand years old!
> 
> third chapter should be up late next week! wooo!!!


	3. Chapter 3

*

 

Tommy woke up to his heart pounding like it was trying to gallop away. 

His eyes snapped open and for a moment he didn’t know where he was or when it was. His head lolled to the side and he caught sight of a familiar pretentious Einstein poster on the back of a familiar door. There was a pile of clothes in the corner, a scooter folded up on top of. A long shadow fell over the grey carpet, evening setting outside the small window. 

Gradually, his heart rate slowed. His mouth curved up, still groggy but pleased.

Reaching out an opposite arm, he flopped over, expecting to paw easily at Lovett and listen to him grumble as Tommy drew him in.

He turned, and his heart was off again, steadily picking up speed as he turned and realized he was alone in Lovett’s room.

He sat up, swallowing hard. A disproportionate swell of panic rose up in his chest and he rubbed at his face, struggling to keep it at bay. It only took a few minutes for him to realize that Lovett wasn’t just in the bathroom. The entire apartment felt flat and empty.

In hindsight, he didn’t know why he was surprised. 

“Shit,” he muttered to himself. 

Something had obviously been going on in Lovett’s head early and if he’d spent just three more minutes teasing out whatever was happening in the prickly, winding corridors of Lovett’s bewildering brain, instead of passing out like an idiot...

“Shit,” he repeated and got up slowly from Lovett’s empty bed. 

Things probably were fine, he kept repeating like a spell as he got dressed in Lovett’s silent, spooky room, the smudged mirror on the wall watching him in disappointed judgment. 

Everything was fine, he kept thinking as he slinked out of the empty apartment and up to Langdon, jittery and spooked like a racehorse. Lovett probably had a study thing or had to meet someone. Or something. It was probably fine. If he said it enough, it would start to feel true.

Despite this diligence, he spent the rest of the evening slowly losing his mind.

When three days passed and there was still no sign of Lovett, Tommy realized he had only _thought_ he knew what it was like to agonize over what the hell was going on. What a naïve newborn baby he’d been. So new. So young.

Whether he was trying to concentrate in his Thursday lecture, or doing two-thirds of the work on the group presentation for Global Economic Theory, or craning his neck around in the library like an idiot trying to see if he could spot a familiar dark head—it was hell.

He was in hell.

“Yo, Vietor,” Travis said, snapping his fingers obnoxiously close to Tommy’s head. 

“What?” Tommy jerked back, and when he looked up, Favs and the rest of the Exec Board were all staring at him. Favs looked concerned. Everyone else looked annoyed. 

Fuck. He’d been sitting in this stupid fucking meeting for the stupid fucking Halloween party coming up with ADPi for over an hour and he had no idea what they were even talking about.

“What, Travis?” he said anyway, annoyed even though he was the one daydreaming in a planning meeting, which normally he would snap at any of the other guys about in a heartbeat.

Travis raised his eyebrows. “You got the final budget for beer or what?” 

Shit. “Oh.” Tommy shuffled through the papers in the binder in front of him. He had the budget, but it wasn’t finished. He’d been planning to get it done last night, but then he’d just—lost track of time. Everything felt like it was happening behind a thick film. “Um. I’ll have it tomorrow.” 

Travis, who led the hospitality committee, which functionally meant that occasionally he remembered to buy solo cups when Tommy asked him to, looked at Bobby on his right and rolled his eyes. “Come on, man. That’s your one job.” 

Tommy saw red. “Fuck you, man,” he snapped, pushing back his chair from the table. 

“Let’s all chill,” Favs said, touching Tommy’s arm. Tommy looked down and saw his hands were in fists. “We’ve been at this for a minute already, let’s break for five.” 

There was a general noise of assent amongst the rest of the board. 

“Fucking dick,” Travis said under his breath as he stood.

“Kiss my ass,” Tommy said, at a normal volume. He normally didn’t give a shit about Travis and his lazyass ways but he felt ready to physically fight someone at the smallest opportunity right now. 

Favs laughed, nonchalant but quelling. “Easy, killer.” He pulled Tommy away as the rest of the board drifted off for snacks.

They went into the kitchen and Tommy leaned against the counter, brooding silently as Favs got a couple cans of diet Coke and handed on to Tommy.

Tommy took a drink and wearily acknowledged that things with Lovett might somehow be well and totally fucked. 

God, he couldn’t stop thinking about what it had felt like fucking Lovett, and the more he thought of the sounds he made, the feel of him under Tommy, the frown between his eyebrows when something felt really good—he _knew_ Lovett had liked it, he just knew it. Maybe not as much as Tommy because that didn’t seem possible, but still, he was sure of it.

He was mostly sure of it.

He pulled out his phone and tapped at Lovett’s number.

They barely texted. Tommy had gotten Lovett’s number a month ago and there was barely anything in the text chain. Mostly because they were always around each other. Or they had been, at least. 

He pulled up the last text, from Lovett two weeks ago. _hey dickhead you getting breakfast soon?_ Nothing since then.

With a long exhale, he started typing. _are you going to the library today?_

Tommy reminded himself that Lovett was a feast or famine texter—either he responded in literal seconds or texts languished in his inbox for days.

“Hey, I’m heading to the Nat later,” Favs said out of nowhere. Tommy jerked, fumbling his phone. Favs watched him, concerned like he’d been earlier as he watched Tommy flounder in the meeting. “You want to come with ?”

“Thanks, but I can’t.” Tommy looked down at his phone again. Still nothing from Lovett. “I’ve got plans.”

Favs looked down at this soda can. “Really? Again?”

Tommy shrugged irritably. “Hey, I’m allowed to have plans multiple times a week.”

After a pointed pause, Favs asked carefully, “Do those plans involve hanging out with Lovett?”

Tommy froze, cornered. A blush was creeping up the back of his neck.

“No.” He coughed into his fist. “No, why would you even ask that?”

Favs crossed his arms and shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said, impatience just creeping around the edge of his voice. 

 _Have you heard from him?_ Tommy wanted to ask. _Why haven’t you brought him around the frat this week? Is he okay?_ It took all he had to hold it in.

Favs kept his eyes on his soda and said, haltingly, “I feel like he’s been avoiding me.” He sounded both confused and dismayed at the prospect. “Like he’s mad at me about something.” He glanced up at Tommy. “You, too.”

“Favs,” Tommy said, then stopped. He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t mad at Favs—except that he was, kind of, and at Lovett, and mostly at himself for thinking he had any business in trying to compete with the golden ideal of Favs with Lovett or anyone else.

“I know I probably sound paranoid,” Favs said slowly. “Just, neither of you guys are ever around, and it almost feels like you guys have been, like...hanging out without me or something.” He laughed, only slightly strained. “Like, it’s cool if you guys are friends too. You don’t have to hide it from me. Or like, keep it a secret.” He gave Tommy a small smile, unsure but encouraging. “I’d be cool with it.”

“Well, we’re not.” Tommy tried his hardest to keep his voice even. He was moderately successful. He crumpled his soda can with slightly excessive force and threw it in the recycling. “Why does it even matter anyway, you’re the one who’s been obsessed with him since this summer.” He put an extra emphasis on summer just to be a dick, feeling a mean curl of satisfaction when Favs went slightly pink.

Favs raised both eyebrows. “Yeah, and I thought you couldn’t stand him.”

Tommy grabbed restlessly at his own shoulder, caught out. “Whatever, I don’t care about Lovett.”

They stood in silence for a long moment, both conspicuously looking past each other, Tommy at the wall just behind Favs’ head and Favs at Tommy’s shoes, the very air tense.

“I just don’t like secrets,” Favs said, almost pleading. “Whatever’s going on with you, you can tell me.”

Tommy tried not to roll his eyes. He wasn’t sure that was true. Favs liked things to be normal, and cheerful, and for everyone to be happy and friends. Tommy liked that about Favs; he liked being around him and feeling swept up in the weirdo positivity cyclone of his irrepressible good nature. 

It didn’t make Tommy feel like Favs was especially well equipped to deal with every tiresome, hateful anxiety inside Tommy’s head. Or that he even wanted to.

“Yeah, okay,” Tommy said finally, on an exhale. He was exhausted and he still had three hours of reading to get done after this stupid meeting finally wrapped up, and early lacrosse practice the next day. And approximately ten more hours of tormenting himself over what exactly had gone wrong with Lovett. He had a lot on his plate.

There was the rap of a knuckle on the doorframe and they both jumped to see Caleb standing looking at them.

“Dudes, we’re starting back up in there.” He glanced between the two of them. “All good?”

Tommy stepped away from the counter, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Yep,” he said. “All good, let’s get this thing wrapped up. Party’s in a week.”

Behind him, he heard Favs sigh, but he didn’t try to stop Tommy as they headed back into the dining room.

In his pocket, his phone stayed stubbornly silent.

 

*

 

At the end of the week, the literal last thing Tommy wanted to do was pull on his dumb Batman t-shirt and join Favs in the entryway in his complimentary Superman shirt to welcome guests into the Halloween party. 

Since no aspect of Tommy’s life seemed to be interested in cutting him any fucking slack, he had no choice.

“Hey, looking good,” Favs said when Tommy came down the stairs, trying too hard to be normal. Things had been tense since the Exec Board meeting.

Tommy nodded, taking the stack of cups from Favs, who was holding the pouch for the money. They only had the first-hour shift and then they could get to the party, but Tommy was absolutely dreading it. 

Favs kept trying to make small talk, and Tommy felt like an absolute asshole, but he could barely respond in multi-syllable sentences. He knew he was being an overdramatic baby, but he couldn’t help it. Eventually, Favs gave up, gloomily glancing at Tommy in between smiling and welcoming ADPi and their dates to the party, and when their shift was over Tommy immediately made his escape for the keg.

The party was mostly a blur to Tommy. He got up mechanically every once and a while. It was a little like being stoned, but he couldn’t really relax. He was just in this perpetual state of suspended unease. 

Which was why at first, he thought he’d hallucinated the familiar figure skulking into the living room, skirting the edge of the pon tables warily. 

Tommy was moving toward him before he realized it, stuttering to a stop just as Lovett was peering crankily around the room, his back mostly to Tommy still.

“Lovett?” 

He sounded a little breathless, and he didn’t raise his voice, but Lovett twisted around immediately anyway, locking eyes with Tommy. He looked down at Tommy’s half-assed superhero costume, obviously connecting it to the matching shirts of the other brothers around the room, and rolled his eyes theatrically.

God, he looked good. Tommy’s eyes ran over his face and neck and shoulders and little waist and then back up again to the top of the circuit hungrily, taking in every detail. It had only been a week but it felt longer; even with Lovett watching him warily like he barely even knew him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked dumbly.

Lovett crossed his arms. “They let me in at the door, I didn’t like sneak in or anything.”

“No, that’s not what I—” Tommy glanced over his shoulder, and even though nobody seemed to be paying attention to them now, he took a step closer. “No, I meant—I haven’t heard from you in a week.” He lowered his voice. “Lovett, I’ve been going crazy.” 

Lovett rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, stop it. Just stop it, Tommy.”

“Stop _what_? Jesus, we fuck once and then you just drop off the face of the earth—”

“Keep your voice down,” Lovett hissed.

Tommy grabbed his hair in frustration. “What are you even _talking_ about?”

Lovett’s shoulders hunched up defensively. “I just came here to see Favs for a minute.”

“What,” Tommy said flatly.

“I need to talk to him." 

“Are you fucking serious?” He barely recognized his own voice. It was so harsh, like the voice of some furious, drained stranger.

For a minute there when he'd first seem Lovett in the doorway, Tommy had thought maybe he’d just come for _him_. Maybe he was coming to apologize, or at the very least explain what in the fuck was going on with him.

But of _course_ he’d just come for Favs. It was beyond infuriating, on some base level he couldn’t even contemplate right now.

“Come on,” he said tersely and took hold of Lovett’s skinny wrist.

Lovett sucked in a breath but didn’t pull away. Instead, he let Tommy turn and tow him toward the stairs.

Tommy kept expecting Lovett to protest, snap something about Tommy yanking him around like a Neanderthal, but he was strangely pliant, silently following Tommy through the party.

Inside his empty room, Tommy closed the door and turned to Lovett, still holding his wrist. With effort, because it still felt like Lovett might turn around and vanish if Tommy didn’t keep a hand on him to tether him to this mortal plane, he let his fingers drop away. 

In the sudden silence, Tommy didn’t know what to say. 

“Jesus, did I—was it _bad_?” he burst out of nowhere, voice strangled. “Did I...hurt you?” His stomach felt like it was in his feet. He worked to not look as stricken as he felt.

“What?” Lovett scowled at a point just over Tommy’s shoulder. “God, Tommy. No.”

“Then....then why....” Tommy trailed off, swallowing. “Are you mad at me?” 

“Shut up,” Lovett bit out, jaw working.

He refused to meet Tommy’s eye, and Tommy was fast cycling from distraught to furious to panicked in a horrible circuit that was making him feel sick. 

“So it was fine, you just. Didn’t want to see me anymore, after.” Tommy was trying his best to keep his tone level and as non-argumentative as possible, but it was doing that thing where it made him sound flat, like a robot.

“We’re not seeing each other,” Lovett snapped. “We’re not doing _anything_.”

“You could have fucking fooled me,” Tommy shot back, stung.

They glared at each other for another unbearable silence.

Tommy cracked first. “Just tell me what I did wrong,” he said stiffly. He didn’t mean to beg. He just—needed to know, so badly.

Sighing gustily, Lovett rubbed both hands over his face like a little kid. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was out of control. “Maybe everything’s not always about you, Tommy. You ever think of that?”

Helplessly, Tommy chuckled without humor. “God, you have no idea. All the time.” 

Lovett glanced up at him sharply, like he thought Tommy was making fun of him. Whatever bleak expression was sitting on Tommy’s face seemed to satisfy him, because he didn’t storm out of the room, not yet.

He did look ready to vibrate out of his own skin. He kept glancing behind Tommy at the door, ready to make a break for it. Tommy felt relieved he’d stationed himself in between Lovett and the exit, and then felt a little like one of those hulking ugly jailors in the medieval romance novels he used to steal from his mom’s room to read the summer before seventh grade. He tried not to loom too obviously, but it was a losing battle, and finally, he gave up and stepped around Lovett to sit heavily on his bed.

Staring at his hands, he said, lowly, “Favs told me about this summer.”

Above him, Tommy heard Lovett inhale, not quite a gasp.

“What are you—what the _fuck_?”

“He told me you guys, like...messed around a little.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” He sounded terrified.

Tommy looked up at him. “Nothing, I mean.” His cheeks were red and he thought he could see the pulse beating hard on the side of his neck, skin pale under his dorky NASA t-shirt. “I just...I wish I would have known.” _Before we got together,_ Tommy didn’t say. _Before I let you get under my skin and start driving me absolutely crazy until I inevitably ruined everything, somehow, again._  

“That's none of your business. It didn’t mean anything.” Lovett stalked over to mess around with the little bowl full of loose change and golf tees Tommy kept on his desk. “It barely—it wasn’t anything.”

Tommy swallowed. God, he felt awful, like he was suddenly getting the flu, his bones achy. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

Lovett reeled around. “What the fuck do you know, Tommy?” He stalked closer to stand right in front of Tommy, close enough that Tommy could see the light, nearly invisible freckles on his nose, nearly Tommy’s height with Tommy sitting down. “You don’t know a fucking thing.”

If he didn’t feel so abjectly miserable, Tommy could’ve laughed. Yeah. Lovett wasn’t wrong. Tommy knew nothing. Fuck, he felt so stupid.

Even so, he found himself staring up at Lovett’s face, eyes drawn to his mouth, and for a second he thought they were going to—

And then Lovett’s eyes went wide and he rocked back on his heels, moving back until there was a healthy distance between them again. 

“So what now?” he demanded. He sounded shaky. “You going to tell me not to tell anyone about Favs, too? Just keep my mouth shut about both of you?”

“Lovett,” Tommy started, stunned, but Lovett bulldozed right over him.

“Because this is bullshit, it wasn’t like I was—fuck, walking around telling everyone you and me were hooking up, okay? I wouldn’t do that. You don’t get to just threaten me into doing what you want.”

Abruptly, Tommy stood up. “Threaten you? Jesus christ.” He took a step toward Lovett, and to his eternal consternation, Lovett took a step back. “Lovett. Look at me.” Lovett kept his eyes defiantly on Tommy’s shoulder. “Lovett. I’m just trying to tell you—.”

He took a deep breath. Fuck, this sucked. But it was the right thing to do. Even if it fucking _sucked_.

“I know you always...wanted Favs. Instead. I’m just trying to tell you it’s okay.”

Somehow, Tommy made himself look at Lovett’s face, which was flushed and slack-jawed like he couldn’t believe each individual word as it tripped over Tommy’s lips. 

“Like, I don’t really know—but Favs been obsessed with you since the summer. He couldn’t stop talking about how hilarious and smart and cool and whatever he thought you were, and he’s always dragging you around and I just. I mean. I don’t want to get in the way.” 

Lovett was just blinking at him now. It was possibly the first time Tommy could remember him being struck dumb.

“Tommy. Shut up. Jesus christ. Just stop talking.”

“I’m sorry,” Tommy said unhappily. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t stop saying it, like a verbal tic. “I’m sorry.”

“Shut _up_.” 

Lovett lurched forward, stumbling a little. Tommy caught him reflexively, steadying him by the elbows. Lovett made a choked sound and went up on his tiptoes to press his lips forcefully against Tommy’s. 

It was like the volume on every fear or creeping worry in his head was turned sharply to the left, everything silent, the sounds from the party drifting away until there was nothing in Tommy’s quiet brain but Lovett, soft and pushy and making little noises as he pressed closer.

Helplessly, he wrapped both arms tight around Lovett’s waist, holding him, making his own sound when it pressed their bodies together chest to knee. He dragged a hand up Lovett’s back, along his spine, feeling Lovett shiver, until he could wrap his hand around the base of his skull and tilt him back, taking control of the kiss, swiping his tongue inside Lovett’s mouth again and again until Lovett went mostly limp, shivering lightly. 

Tommy had the strangely distant thought that maybe he should be trying to punish Lovett, somehow. Make it hard and dirty, one last rough scramble to make each other come as a go fuck yourself for making Tommy think this was something other than what it was.

But Tommy, apparently, was never able to do what made sense.

Instead, he couldn’t stop running his free hand all over Lovett’s body, his soft hips and his ass and his narrow back, letting the hand at Lovett’s neck drift to grab a hold of his fluffy, curly hair, tugging gently.

“Ngh,” Lovett groaned out, guttural. Tommy pulled again, wanting to draw that sound out again and again. Lovett whined high in his throat, crowding closer until Tommy stumbled back, knees hitting the bed as Lovett crawled on top of him, tangling his tongue greedily with Tommy’s. 

Tommy pulled his mouth away just enough to breath out, “Off, off, take them off,” tugging urgently at Lovett’s dumb skinny jeans, trying to wedge both hands under the waistband to get at his ass. “Please, Lovett.”

Lovett scrambled away to wiggle out of them gracelessly, kicking off his boxers and tearing off his shirt. He pounced back onto Tommy before he had a chance to properly take in the sight, his socks still on, grabbing Tommy’s face with both hands and kissing him until they were both panting into each other’s mouths. 

He tore ineffectually at Tommy’s clothes until Tommy caught his wrists. “Hold on,” he gasped. “Just let me.” He yanked his shirt off one-handed and then got distracted when Lovett started rubbing his hands over his chest, thumbing at his nipples. “ _Christ_.” 

Eventually, he got his pants and socks and underwear off and he paused to grab Lovett’s boney ankle, pulling his socks away too. He paused, one of Lovett’s surprisingly delicate feet at his waist, Lovett half-reclined and staring up at him, breathing hard, his soft belly heaving. Tommy’s mouth was dry.

Absently, he pressed his mouth to the knob on Lovett’s ankle, kissing up his leg to his thigh to his hip when Lovett’s breath hitched. He nuzzled at Lovett’s cock where it lay half-hard in the crease of his hip but bypassed it in favor of stretching out over Lovett so they were pressed almost completely together.

Tommy pressed his dick, hard and throbbing almost in time with his shallow pants, into the cut of Lovett’s hip, groaning. He rubbed his temple against Lovett’s soft cheek, almost purring.

“God, you’re just,” he muttered out mindlessly. He lodged both hands between Lovett’s back and the bed, lifting him slightly up to get even closer. “Jesus. _Jon_.”

“Tommy,” Lovett whispered, plaintive, until Tommy caught his lips, hushing him with his teeth and tongue until Lovett was wiggling under him, spreading his knees and wrapping a leg around Tommy’s hip.

Tommy pulled back to frame Lovett’s face with his hands, smoothing his hair back. Lovett’s eyes were bright, a little wild. It was unsettling, and Tommy went to kiss him again but Lovett turned his face. “Just do it,” he urged, begging. “Please, Tommy.”

He ran his hands down to grab Tommy’s bare ass, squeezing hard and making Tommy jerk forward, all his muscles contracting to drive his hips and his hard dick against Lovett’s body again, and again.

What he really wanted to do was take his time. Suck him off, drag his tongue all over his body, tease him to the edge, slick him up and press his fingers inside and fuck Lovett until he was yowling.

But something was tilting away from him like he was losing control. Like they were too off-kilter to wait, to slow it down. Lovett kept lifting his hips up urgently, rubbing against Tommy like a cat, and Tommy’s brain was at a low boil, grunting a little as he rocked his hips down so their dicks were rubbing together, sending sparks across his skin. 

He licked sloppily at one hand and brought it down to wrap around Lovett’s dick, the warm familiar shape of it. 

“Ah,” Lovett’s cried, throwing his head back so his neck was long and taut. It sounded so much like when Tommy was fucking him that he almost came, right then. He gritted his teeth, focusing on jerking Lovett off until the urgency settled just enough that he could focus. 

Lovett scrabbled for a grip on Tommy’s neck. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he kept chanting, biting at Tommy’s mouth and then gasping and jerking away, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be closer or farther.

“Jon,” Tommy muttered, pressing a kiss to his jaw, and then sucking a little, unable to help himself when Lovett moaned and pulled Tommy closer. “Come for me, come on. Do it. Do it, baby, please, do it, I want to see.”

Tossing his head back hard enough it looked like it hurt, Lovett keened and came, shuddering under Tommy’s body.

Tommy groaned at the sight, wrapping Lovett up until Tommy’s dick slid through the wet come between them, gasping at how good it felt. 

“Can I?” He kissed Lovett’s ear, his cheek. “Lovett, can I?” Lovett nodded into Tommy’s neck, wrapping trembly arms and legs around Tommy so they were pressed together and he moved as Tommy thrust mindlessly up, another minute or so before he was tensing and coming too, adding to the mess between them. 

Their harsh breathing echoed through the room as they came down, Tommy unwilling to move or let up his grip on Lovett’s body just yet. Beneath him, Lovett still had his arms firmly locked around Tommy’s waist.

Slowly, he let his legs flop down. A few moments later, his arms loosened so he wasn’t holding onto Tommy actively anymore.

Tommy took a deep breath and heaved himself up on one elbow, ducking his head as he took a final steadying breath, and for a brief, terrible moment, he let himself think that maybe everything was okay now.

He lifted his face to look at Lovett and felt something like resignation settle heavy in the pit of his stomach. “Lovett?”

Lovett’s eyes were wet as he stared fixedly over Tommy’s shoulder, his lower lip trembling.

Wordlessly, Tommy moved away until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He felt really naked all of sudden, and he moved to gather his clothes where they had fallen haphazardly on the floor. 

He cleaned up silently, handing a spare t-shirt back to Lovett without really looking at him. Once he was dressed, he collected Lovett’s clothes and handed them over.

Lovett had wiped his face right now and was watching Tommy from the bed, arms around his knees. He looked really small. 

“I just don’t understand,” Tommy said into the screaming quiet. Downstairs, the beat dropped on some club song and there was a yell of appreciation from the crowd. “Why can’t we just—why do we have to—”

“I just can’t,” Lovett said quietly. It would be easier if he was snapping meanly at Tommy or at least arguing, but he wouldn’t even do Tommy that small courtesy. “It’s not the same for me as it is for you, Tommy. I can’t just ignore it.” 

“Okay,” Tommy said numbly. He’d always known that Tommy wanted Lovett more than Lovett could ever want him, but it was...especially sobering to ear Lovett just, say it like that.

“I just _can’t_ ,” Lovett said again.

He looked at Tommy like he was willing him to understand something, and Tommy had no idea what it was, but it was literally beyond his ability to do anything but try to get the wretched look off Lovett’s face, so he took a deep breath in, held it, then released.

“Lovett, it’s _okay_.” He tried to smile. He probably looked deranged. “I just...I hope you’re happy.” _With Favs_ , he couldn’t say. It was too much. He assumed Lovett knew what he meant.

“Tommy.” But even though Tommy waited, back turned politely while Lovett got dressed, he didn’t say anything else.

When he glanced around again, Lovett was standing and dressed and edging toward the door. “It’s not—Tommy.” He swallowed. “I wish things were different.”

It was somehow the worst thing Lovett could possibly have said, and through some superhuman reserve of strength, Tommy managed not to flinch.

“For sure,” he said inanely. He opened his door and stepped aside.

Lovett paused one last time as he walked by, right in front of Tommy, tilting his head just slightly like he wanted to look at him, or say something. But he just inhaled and kept on going.

In a bit of a daze, Tommy wandered back to his bed and sat down heavily. Everything smelled like sex and come. His roommate was going to be pissed. He couldn’t even begin to care.

He let his spine go slack and slouched against the headboard, trying to play back the last twenty minutes and figure out what the fuck happened. It was fruitless.

Out of nowhere, he was hit with the strongest urge to call his dad and listen to his smooth, calm voice.

He didn’t, though. He held his cell phone in his hand and blinked against the wetness in his eyes, and he didn’t.

 

*

 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat on his bed, staring at his knees. It could have been three or four days; it was probably closer to a half hour. Either way, by the time he hauled himself to his feet the house was mostly quiet, the party winding down, and his body felt ancient and weary. 

He walked out of his room and ran directly into Favs.

“Sorry,” Tommy said automatically. His head was cottony and he blinked slowly when Favs didn’t move to let him pass, biting his lip.

“So.” Favs coughed delicately. “You and Lovett. You guys are...you know.”

Tommy dimly wondered if Favs had been standing outside his door this whole time, listening to Tommy desperately try to convince Lovett to stay with one last needy handjob. Probably. It seemed on brand.

“I, um. Ran into Lovett on his way out and he seemed, uh. Kind of disheveled. And you’ve got.” He nodded in the direction of Tommy’s neck. Tommy clapped a hand there and felt a tenderness spreading. Probably a hickey. “I saw you guys disappear together earlier, and you know. Context clues.” He smiled weakly, in that way Favs had of smiling like it was the opposite of how he actually wanted to be holding his face.

“Don’t worry,” Tommy said tiredly. “That was...that was the last time.”

“Yeah?” Fava kept rubbing his hands on his jeans restlessly. It was kind of annoying. Tommy wished he would just move so he could get by and leave the house and like...walk moodily by the lake, or something. He’d figure it out once he was outside.

“Yeah. So. Sorry if that’s weird or whatever, but hopefully it won’t get in the way of. God. You know.”

He wished Favs would stop holding so still, like a doll. “Um. Okay. That’s...I’m glad you’re telling me, I guess. I just don’t know why you felt like you couldn’t talk to me about this before—” He was blushing a little. “Like, I hope what I told you about...this summer, it didn’t, like. Make you uncomfortable.” 

“No,” Tommy barked out. God, the last thing he needed right now was another visceral imagine of Lovett and Favs and whatever they did together over the summer. “No, that’s not. No.”

Favs rocked back on his heels, looking uncharacteristically awkward.

Tommy tried to get his fried brain to think of a normal, non-aggressive way to say, _Hope you’re both really fucking happy together_. Probably taking out the ‘fucking’ might be a good start.

“Just. I know that he...you guys.” He coughed into his fist. “Good luck or whatever.”

Favs cocked his head even further to the side. He looked like a parakeet. “Um. Thank you.” He squinted. “Are you talking about the spring trip to DC? Because that did take a really long time to organize.”

“What...the fuck? No, I’m not talking about your nerd trip, christ.” Tommy pulled fitfully at his hair. “I’m talking about, like. You and Lovett.” He gestured with both hands. God, he hoped Favs wasn’t going to make him say it. “You know.”

“Okay,” Favs said slowly, like h really didn't.

Fuck, Favs was going to force Tommy to say it first. Sure, why not. His chest felt like it was being compressed by a trash compactor and every other moment he kept thinking of Lovett with tears in his eyes staring up at the ceiling after forcing himself to fuck Tommy as some sort of fucked up consolation prize, so sure, fine. Tommy could tell his best friend that the guy he was completely hung up on actually wanted Favs, not Tommy. Why not. Why the fuck not.

Deliberately, he looked Favs in the eye. “You know he’s always had a thing for you.”

“What?” Favs laughed uncertainly. “What the fuck, no he hasn’t.”

“Yes, he has,” Tommy said ruthlessly. “He had a thing for you and you took advantage of that and you let him fuck around with you and then you blew him off.”

Favs’ mouth dropped open. “That is _not_ what happened,” he snapped. “Like, I said we shouldn’t hook up anymore and we should just go back to hanging out and he said that was totally fine and it was.” 

Tommy laughed once, incredulous. “And you believed him?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Favs looked honestly bewildered. “He said it was fine, and we kept hanging out like normal, and he never brought it up again. He said he was fine,” he repeated, incredulously.

“Lovett never says what he means!” Tommy practically exploded. “You really fucked him up.”

“No, I didn’t. Things were fine, after. Things _are_ fine. I still see Lovett all the time.” He narrowed his eyes. “Or at least I did, until you got fucking jealous and stole him away and started avoiding me all the fucking time.” Favs flushed even harder, crossing his arms defiantly.

God, Tommy wanted to deck him. He tried to remember their freshman year, when Favs had sheepishly admitted he’d never taken or thrown a fight in his life, which had boggled Tommy’s mind at first until he realized Favs had likely never angered someone to the point of violence before.

Well, first time for everything, Tommy reasoned, and let out a short breath through his teeth with a hiss. “Yeah, well you sound pretty fucking jealous now, Favreau.” 

Favs opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. His entire face was red. Finally, he uncrossed his arms, glaring archly at Tommy down his straight patrician nose.

“I don’t know what you _want_ from me, Tommy.”

Tommy wasn’t sure either. What he really wanted was to go back in time to that first stupid fucking party and tackle his past idiot self to the ground the second he set foot on the stairs. Stop him before he even made it to the hallway, and had the chance to bump into Lovett in the first place.

“You should have been more careful with him!” he burst out.

“I didn’t know!” Favs erupted back, looking just as surprised at himself. “I fucking—I didn’t realize! I’m sorry!”

“That’s not good enough!”

There was a cough from Tommy’s left, and he turned to see Caleb and Justin watching cautiously.

Tommy realized they were essentially standing three feet apart in the upstairs hallway bellowing at each other. He looked around to see a few brothers had already poked their heads out of doorways, watching the commotion curiously.

“Uh. Guys. I’m not sure what—maybe want to take this somewhere else?”

That was the last thing Tommy wanted to do. He didn’t think he could keep it together for another full minute, with Favs staring at him wide-eyed and betrayed, another person he’d managed to alienate in twenty-four hours.

“You have to be more careful with him now,” Tommy said lowly, each word aching.

“Tommy, I—” Favs shook his head, distraught, blue eyes shining like a damn Disney prince, even now. He shook his head, perplexed. “I will. I should have been—I’m sorry.” 

Tommy rubbed at his face. “Yeah, okay.” He was so fucking exhausted. “I’m gonna.” He jerked a thumb toward the stairs and then followed his vague directions.

He could hear the gentle rumbling of a dozen gossipy frat bros cranking the rumor mill up to speed, but it barely registered.

It was honestly the least of his worries right now.

 

*

  

November was not a banner month for Tommy, to put it very, very mildly. It blurred together, weeks of holing up in the room, going lax on showering until Jimmy threatened to mutiny over the smell of the room, skipping lacrosse practice, fucking up his classes.

Things were going really great.

But if he had to be his own judge, pièce de résistance was truly telling his parents he wasn’t coming home for Thanksgiving.

“You’re not coming?” his mom asked softly, willingly, disappointment in every syllable.

“I can’t. I have too much work to get done.” Which was true, he was falling behind in a bunch of his classes. And not only that, he hated every single one of them. He hated every hypothetical, nihilistic second of every single class and every pretentious entitled asshole in every discussion section, which seemed to be everyone.  

Other than that things were fine, though.

“You don’t sound fine, Tommy.” His dad sounded more frustrated than Tommy remembered hearing him in a while.

“I am though, Dad,” Tommy insisted tiredly, coloring in the circles he’d drawn on the edge of his notebook deeper and darker until they looked like demon eyes.

On the other end, his dad was silent. It made Tommy fidget and want to fill the silence, but he dug his nails into his leg through his jeans and pushed through it.

“I think this is a monumentally selfish thing to do,” his dad said finally.

Tommy flinched hard. It was one of the harshest things his dad had said to him in a while. He didn’t speak that way, not unless Tommy backed him into a corner, which he did.

“I’m sorry, Dad. It’s just. It’s not a good time.”

“You’d tell me if something else was going on, right?” His dad lowered his voice, imploring. “If there was something wrong, I could trust you to tell us, right?”

Sometimes it was like his dad didn’t even know him. “Of course,” Tommy lied. “Of course I would.”

The rest of the frat filed off two by two to the charter bus to the airport or caught rides home. On his way out on Monday, Favs knocked on his door before he left. Tommy knew it was him because Favs called out, softly, “Tommy?”

Tommy knew he was being a selfish melodramatic baby, just like his dad said, but he didn’t respond, and he didn’t get up and answer the door.

After a long pause, he heard Favs sigh, “Have a good break, man,” and then the muffled footsteps of him leaving the house.

Across the room, Jimmy raised his eyebrows, a look of earned judgment that only a roommate who’s lived a few feet away from you for a year could muster. “Dude.”

Tommy sighed and curled up on his bed under the comforter. “I know,” he mumbled.

So it was a total relief when campus was almost entirely cleared out by Thursday, save for Tommy and most of the international students.

It was almost freeing, to the point that he started to let his guard down. Sitting out in the open in the Union to study and dick around on the internet. Grabbing lunch during peak rush hour on State Street.

He was leaving Five Guys with a sadness burger and a sack of fries that were going to make him feel horrible and unhealthy in thirty minutes but for now felt extremely vital to his further existence when he heard a familiar voice call his name.

“Tommy?”

Shit. Slowly, feeling a little like he was in a horror movie but it wasn’t clear if he was the monster or what, he turned to face Katie, who looked just as startled to see him, hair in a messy bun, wearing her big sensible coat and leggings with a hole in the knee.

In a way, it was remarkable that they’d gone this long without running into each other. She spent most of her time in the Engineering buildings, but Madison wasn’t a big town, and he knew she came to other frat parties occasionally, even if she wasn’t in the Greek system. It seemed most likely she’d been doing him the courtesy of staying out his way, which was pretty typical Katie, really. 

After he just stared at her like an idiot for a regulation minute, she shrugged her shoulders a few time in a gesture that felt achingly familiar. 

“So. You didn’t go home for Thanksgiving?” When he nodded, she winced sympathetically. “Yikes. Bet your parents loved that.” 

For brief a moment, Tommy basked in the luxury of talking to someone who actually knew his parents. Katie had met them, had marveled in person at how warm and uncomplicated and gentle they were, and then looked at Tommy with the inevitable expression of _how are you from the same family_?She knew what they were like, and what it was like to disappoint them.

“Yeah. It was...not great.” Tommy cleared his throat. “And you’re not going back either?”

Katie shrugged. “Nope.” She popped the ‘p’ loudly. “I couldn’t afford the plane ticket out to California, and my parents are working anyway.” She raised one eyebrow, a familiar expression that gave Tommy a pang of recognition. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Tommy shrugged. Fair. It wasn’t. Gradually, they both started drifting down the street, heading in the same direction. Tommy kept a careful distance between them, not wanting to crowd her, eyes on the sidewalk. 

When he looked up again, Katie was studying him out of the corner of her eye.

“So what are you punishing yourself for?”

“What?” 

“Well, it’s not like your parents couldn’t afford your ticket home.” Before Tommy could protest, Katie added, “And you love Thanksgiving. So the only reason you’d be forcing yourself to miss it is if you decided you somehow didn’t deserve to go. So, what are you punishing yourself for this time?”

“It’s not like that,” Tommy insisted.

“Okay. Whatever you say.” Her face softened. “And, it’s not like it’s any of my business now, either. I did my time.” She smiled though, rueful, and tentatively nudged her shoulder into his.

“After putting up with me for so long, you probably deserve some kind of reward.” Tommy laughed hollowly. “Or like a t-shirt. ‘I survived.’” 

Katie threw her head back and groaned. “It's so annoying when you do that.”

They were nearly to the library now. Tommy let her go ahead to cross the street. “What?”

She threw her hands out expansively like she was furiously conducting an orchestra. “Just decide what someone else thinks and feels, without listening to a thing they say.” She made a frustrated sound. “Christ, it’s seriously the most frustrating thing about you.”

Tommy didn’t do that, he wanted to say, but suddenly didn’t feel confident enough to actually follow through on. And something else about what she’d said—he thought of Lovett, inexplicably insisting that Tommy was too straight to want to keep fucking around even though Tommy had been literally and figuratively panting after him for weeks now. 

“Shit,” Tommy said. “That must have been really annoying. I’m—I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“Okay, dial it down with the tragic face, guy,” Katie laughed, shaking her head. They paused outside the library and Katie turned to face him, looking resolute. 

“Look, this is probably a weird time to do this, but you know, I’ve been meaning to talk you  so whatever, you’re going to have to deal.” She took a breath, and Tommy steeled himself. “I _liked_ dating you, Tommy. I don’t care if you don’t believe me, but I really liked it. It was good.” She raised her eyebrows. “Right up until _you_ decided I didn’t. You didn’t even ask me, you just decided, ‘hey, Katie hates this, I better drive her away for her own protection.’” She snorted, the sound somehow both sympathetic and delicate, and shook her head. “You kind of white-fanged me.”

Tommy felt his brow furrow as he shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

“You took me home to Massachusetts, and I met your parents, and I thought things were going great, you know? And why wouldn’t I, because they _were_. And then when I came back to campus, I didn’t hear from you for two weeks. I thought you were freaking dead, Tommy. I had to call Favs just to prove you were okay.” Tommy hadn’t known that. He never knew any of that. “Then when you did show up back here, the first thing you did was sit me down and tell me to break up with you.”

“No, I didn’t.” Tommy was sure that wasn’t what happened. Reasonably sure, at least. 

Katie shoved his chest, playfully, but firm enough to show she meant business. “Yeah, you _did_. You looked so miserable, with the face and the eyes and I felt like I didn’t have a choice. Like, I’m going to force this guy to stay with me, when he’s practically begging me to end it? Nope, not my thing.” She looked away. “Jesus. It was brutal.”

Tommy stood there, stunned. From his recollection, all he remembered was how he’d felt like more and more Katie had to spend her time calming him down, dealing with his moods and his humorless intensity until he was sure she was sick of him. He thought he’d been doing her a favor, bowing out so she wouldn’t have to. It had sucked. He’d really liked going out with Katie. She was great, and somehow that had been the worst part, that he was tricking this great girl into being with him when she was obviously sick to the teeth of him.

It was like looking at one of those magic eye puzzles and suddenly you blinked and the jumble of shapes leaped out at you, fully three-dimensional when before it was a totally different image.

God, he was fucking blind. How could he always be so fucking blind?

“Jesus, Katie. I. I don’t know what to say.” He shook his head. “I’m just really sorry."

Katie patted his shoulder. “Hey, I didn’t say that to like, make you feel bad. Or not totally.” She smiled wryly. “I mean, yeah, it sucked. It really, _really_ sucked. Like I said, I thought we were fine, but inside your head, it was like a whole different relationship was going on.” She reached out to tap lightly at his temple. “The Katie in your head is a real asshole, it seems like.”

“No, she’s not,” Tommy said quickly, then grimaced at himself. “No, _you’re_ not. I never—I didn’t.” He didn’t know what to say. His mind was a little blown. “It was never your fault.”

“Well, yeah. I know that _now_.” She adjusted the straps on her backpack. “For a while, I felt really guilty, like I should have, I don’t know. Tried harder to save you from yourself, or something? But that would’ve been kind of bullshit. I shouldn’t have to trick someone into seeing that we’re good together. They should just want to be with me on their own.”

“Katie.” Tommy wished the earth would open its terrible maw and swallow him into its fiery, cleansing depths.

“At first, it really hurt that you didn’t trust me enough to stay with me.” Katie shrugged. “And now I just feel bad for you, that you’re so fucking insecure you can’t believe that someone would actually want to be with you, no matter what they say.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, that was kind of harsh. I guess I am still kind of mad at you.”

“Fair.” At Katie’s exasperated exhale, Tommy held up his hands. “I’m not trying to—I’m listening to you, I just meant I agree. That did suck. I can understand why you’d be mad at me.”

She was still watching him suspiciously. “I can’t even tell anymore, what’s you listening and what’s you just eager to agree with anything that confirms what you already hate about yourself.” She hefted her backpack onto her shoulder, standing up. “But I guess that’s the next person’s problem, now. Not mine.” 

Like an idiot lab rat, Tommy immediately summoned up an image of Lovett curled up next to Tommy on the twin bed at his apartment on Gorham, eyelashes dark on his cheek, looking disconcertingly and deceptively angelic. 

He shook his head, focusing back on Katie, who looked ready to sidle away. Tommy couldn’t blame her. It was a lot for an unexpected Wednesday afternoon encounter.

“You deserve to be with someone who lets you in,” Tommy said. He made a face at himself. “Sorry, that was really annoying to say, fuck. Sorry.”

The corner of Katie’s mouth pulled up. “Yeah, it was. But yeah, you’re right.” After a moment’s hesitation, she leaned into to nudge her shoulder against his. “I hope you find someone who’s good to you too, Tommy.”

The thing was, he already had, and he had no idea what to do about it. But he smiled anyway. “It was good to see you, Katie. I mean it.”

“I might even come to a Kappa party soon,” she said, making a face. “You guys are the only ones with decent beer, everyone else just buys the cheapest kegs.”

“Pay now or pay later,” Tommy said wisely. “As they say.”

“As they say,” Katie echoed,

It was weird, Tommy had spent a lot of the semester quietly dreading the day he’d run into Katie and have to face her and what a shitty boyfriend he’d been.

But now that it had happened, he felt—lighter, somehow, as he trudged up the stairs to the library. At least for now.

It was nice.

 

*

 

The week after Thanksgiving, Tommy warily began to think that maybe he’d finally hit the valley and was finally on the upswing. Sure, he still couldn’t think of beds or libraries or scooters or nerdy t-shirts or cereal or The OC without thinking of Lovett and getting a chest ache, and him and Favs weren’t technically speaking yet.

But in general, things seemed to have plateaued. Tommy was doing fine.

He was thinking this, cautiously repeating it until it felt mostly true, as he walked into the library.

Almost like the universe was agreeing with him, he saw Katie standing near one of the entryway tables and caught her eye, nodding. Katie smiled back at him, a little wry, like she was admitting that she was done avoiding Tommy and library.

He smiled, waving, and she rolled her eyes and went back to her conversation.

“Hey,” Lovett called out from behind him, voice halting. 

Tommy froze. Shit. Red alert, he was _not_ fine. His heart was ready to beat out of his chest and he was _not fine_. 

He turned slowly to look at Lovett, who was standing tensely off to the side.

“Hey, Lovett,” Tommy said hoarsely. God. This sucked. This sucked so much. This a million times worse than seeing Katie again. All he wanted to do was go and stick his nose in Lovett’s throat. Shit. _Shit_. “Did you, uh. Did you have a good Thanksgiving?”

Lovett shrugged noncommittally. “Who was that?” he asked instead. 

“Uh?” Tommy turned to look over his shoulder, where Katie was laughing with a few friends, making a face as she did an impression of what Tommy thought was probably her Chem Ed professor. “That’s Katie?”

“Katie.” Lovett pressed his lips together. “That Katie? So you guys are fine again, now? Done fucking experimenting?” 

It was perfectly designed to make Tommy crazy and send him down an argumentative spiral, but he couldn’t really muster it up today. It was too good to be standing so near to Lovett after what felt like forever, and he was just—he couldn’t be mad at him right now.

“Lovett, what do you fucking care?” he asked instead, tiredly. “What does it matter to you who I talk with or sleep with or anything?”

“Oh, so you’re sleeping with her again?” Lovett said, loudly, almost on a squawk.

“No, shh, shut up, god you’re so loud,” Tommy shushed him, stepping closer and herding Lovett away from the tables and through to the entryway. “Me and Katie aren’t together, I was just—saying. It shouldn’t matter to you, right?” He ruthlessly squashed any remnant of hope that fluttered up as he kept his gaze level on Lovett. “Right?”

Lovett huffed. “Sure. Right.” He turned and pushed open the doors and went outside, and Tommy assumed he’d just left him for good but then he paused outside, turning to look back at Tommy. 

“Good lord,” Tommy muttered, and dutifully trooped outside to stand next to Lovett.

“So you’ve been okay?” Lovett asked finally, staring off at the street. 

Tommy rolled his eyes, because really. “ _No_ , Lovett,” he said, sharper than he meant to. “I haven’t been fucking _okay_. Jesus christ.” 

He watched Lovett’s ears hunch up to his shoulders, hands cupping his elbows. It was a little cold out, Tommy noted wearily, and Lovett was only wearing a thin sweater. Why didn’t he ever wear a coat, Tommy asked the heavens beseechingly. 

“I was just asking,” he muttered.  
  
“Well, I just answered.” Tommy sighed, looking at Lovett’s thing shoulders and not wanting to yell at him anymore. “You been okay?”

Lovett laughed shrilly, in a way Tommy couldn’t even begin to decode. “Yeah, I’ve been great. Super great, it’s kind of unbelievable. It’s like, ‘Stop being so great, everything! I need to slow down!’” 

“Right,” Tommy said carefully, muddled. “Well, that’s good.”

“Look, I have class,” Lovett said to Tommy’s shoulder. As though Tommy had been the one to interrupt him in the library, and interrogate him, and send him back to square one. “Are we good? Can I go?”

“You can do whatever the fuck you want,” Tommy spit out, horrified both at himself and how rapidly the entire situation had devolved into this slow-moving disaster.

Lovett barked out a single, mean laugh. “Great. Awesome. Thanks.”

“I’m just going to go home,” Tommy said, somewhat nonsensically, since he’d just come from home to library to study. Whatever. It wasn’t like he’d be able to concentrate now.

“Sounds good. Take it easy,” Lovett gave a sarcastic salute, and Tommy turned his back on him, unable to look at him for another second. 

Shit, this was it. This was it—it was over, whatever they were doing was about to be over and as soon as they both walked away here, it was done. He wasn’t going to—he probably wasn’t going to be able to see Lovett anymore. The thought of running into him at the frat hanging out with Favs, in the common space or at parties, or at the library—god, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He was probably going to have to move out of the frat for the spring. Maybe one of the pledges could move in early. He’d have to see what was in the bylaws. He’d sleep in the park if he had to. 

Tommy was having trouble breathing. He couldn’t stop swallowing, like that would help clear whatever was making his lungs feel tight.

“Tommy?” It sounded like Lovett was calling his name from the other end of a tunnel.

Tommy raised a hand to wave him off. He was fine. He just felt—a little sick, but he was fine. “I’m fine,” he tried to say, but mostly he just choked out a sound. 

“Jesus,” Lovett muttered. He wrapped a short, sturdy arm around Tommy’s waist and steered him to a retaining wall, forcibly guiding him to sit down.

“I’m fine,” Tommy tried again. He could barely choke the words out. At a remove, he noticed that his face was wet.

“Stop saying that,” Lovett said sharply, in contrast to the soft, steady pressure of his hand rubbing up and down Tommy’s side, over the grooves of his ribs, his other hand wiping softly at Tommy's damp cheeks. “You’re not fine, jesus.” Tentatively, he pressed his temple to Tommy’s shoulder, and Tommy did his best not to sag into it. 

“Hey, let’s get you home, huh?” Lovett said quietly, soothingly. He had a really nice voice when he wanted to, Tommy noted. He’d missed that voice.

Tommy expected Lovett to step away once Tommy was steady enough to walk on his own, but he didn’t. He kept his arm around Tommy the whole time, giving little encouraging updates along the way. “We’re almost there, Tommy. Just a little bit farther.” 

In the frat house, they passed Caleb and a pledge Tommy didn’t really recognize, but neither objected as Lovett led Tommy upstairs. By now, Tommy wasn’t quite as dazed, but he was just as drained, and he didn’t want to let go of his arm around Lovett’s shoulders. He didn’t care who stared; he just wanted him to stay there always.

Thankfully, they didn’t run into Favs, and when they got to Tommy’s room, Jimmy got one look at them and cleared out, nodding at Lovett on his way out.

“I honestly had no idea you even had a roommate,” Lovett said thoughtfully.

“He has a girlfriend,” Tommy explained, voice hoarse and hurting. “And I—think he was kind of doing me a favor, this semester. When you and I were, uh.”

Mercifully, Lovett didn’t linger in the uncomfortable silence and bullied him into bed, untying Tommy’s shoes and bullying him out of his jeans and tucking him into bed like he was a kid. Tommy didn’t think he’d been fussed over like this since he was kid, or at least he’d never put up with it from anyone else since. 

When Tommy grabbed his hand, feeling too weak to fight the impulse, Lovett paused. 

“Jon, can you stay? Please?”

He watched Lovett swallow. “Okay,” he said softly and clambered into bed beside Tommy.

He huffed for a bit, arranging the pillows, the blankets, remarking reliably on all the unearned space Tommy managed to commandeer, and the obvious evidence that Lovett was nervous too settled something in Tommy’s chest. 

When Lovett was settled, Tommy gave in and curved himself firmly around Lovett’s body, arms and legs tangled together.

Slowly, Lovett brought a hand up to comb at Tommy’s hair, fingers dragging through his scalp. 

“You’re okay,” Lovett murmured, and it made Tommy realize he was still shaking. He made an effort of regulating his breathing, but it still took a while for him to settle. In the meantime, Lovett kept petting his hair, murmuring occasionally, pressing his mouth to Tommy’s head in an almost-kiss.

It was almost enough. 

“Does that happen to you a lot?” he asked softly once Tommy was nearly dozing on his chest. 

Tommy, wearily assuming Lovett meant the panic attack, shook his head, sneaking closer so his face was in Lovett’s neck. “Not since high school.”

“You ever see anyone for it?”

“A few times.”

“Maybe you should see someone again.”

Tommy was quiet for a moment. Maybe. He nodded wordlessly after a while.

“Either that or you’ve just got typical straight hysteria,” Lovett said primly, cutting the tension enough for Tommy to snort at first, but under the covers, he found Lovett’s hand and squeezed.

“Lovett.” He squirmed a little closer, taking a breath. “Lovett, please. You have to know—god, you _have_ to know. I’m not straight. “ 

Lovett went very still, but he didn’t move away, just let Tommy whisper urgently into the soft, dark pocket of air between his neck and the pillow. 

“This was never me just experimenting. I’ve _already_ experimented. I’m not having a breakdown. It's not just girls for me. I’ve been with guys before.” 

“Humblebrag,” Lovett said faintly. 

“Shut up,” Tommy mumbled, nosing closer behind Lovett’s ear. “I’m trying to say, that if you think I don’t want to do this because I’m not into guys or I'm not like, serious about it. That’s not what it is.” 

“You’re,” Lovett said slowly, voice high and starting to waver, “um, serious? About this? Or I guess, you _were_?” 

Tommy let all of the breath out of his chest. Why not. “I _am_ serious.” Slowly, he brought Lovett’s hand up and pressed a deep, lingering kiss to the palm.

“Jesus, Tommy,” Lovett breathed out. He tugged Tommy further on top of him, hugging him tight. “God, how can that possibly be true, though?” 

Lovett sounded so tremulous and scared and hopeful, and Tommy pulled away to look him in the face for this. 

“Tommy,” he whispered, low. He held onto Tommy’s face with both hands and pulled him in for a single, shaky kiss. They were both out of breath when he pulled back. “I didn’t know what I was I _doing_. I just couldn’t figure out what the fucking rules were with you.” He shrugged, babbling helplessly. “And every time I thought okay, maybe I get this, it’s just hooking up—and then you’d just, like. Turn everything upside down, and the way you’d treat me, no one's ever—.”

Lovett cut off abruptly, swallowing thickly. He pressed his lips together where they were wobbling. “I didn’t understand what you were _doing_.” 

He looked so lost, and Tommy’s chest hurt again, but in a different way than usual lately. He pressed a kiss to Lovett’s soft lips, then another. Then they both kind of got lost in the third. 

Finally, he pulled away to say roughly, “To be fair, I didn’t really know either, or a while there.” 

They stared at each other, twin giddy grins growing on their faces, even as Tommy felt a little teary-eyed. It was the oddest feeling. 

“God, come here,” Lovett said brusquely when the unrelenting emotional eye contact got to be a little much and pulled Tommy’s head back down. “You need to sleep. You look like a Dickensian orphan.”

“You don’t look so great either,” Tommy lied because he did. He seemed similarly worn out, though, and even though Tommy hoped he hadn't been as miserable as Tommy, it was at least validating to know he hadn’t been pining alone.

“Man, who knew all it took to lock this down was a good ol’ fashioned panic attack,” Lovett gloated, squashing Tommy’s face to his chest even as Tommy protested. 

“That is not what happened,” Tommy insisted, “I very bravely bared my _soul_ and you were swept off your feet by my emotional honesty.” He snuggled into Lovett’s side again, pressing his hot face into his neck.

“Maybe a little,” Lovett admitted, surprisingly tremulous. He pressed a kiss to the crown of Tommy’s head, then his temple, then just where he could reach at the corner of his eye.

Tommy hugged Lovett closer, and fell suddenly, almost violently, to sleep.

  

*

 

When Tommy woke up, he was alone again, which he was already pretty sick of.

He did his best not to panic, which was hard, but when he sat up, he saw Jimmy across from him reading in bed. “Your loud boyfriend is downstairs,” he said without looking up.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Tommy muttered, although he could feel the pleased flush running up his cheeks.

He pulled on sweatpants and a long-sleeve t-shirt and went downstairs, a little spring in his step when he could hear the strident tones of Lovett from several rooms away.

Until he was close enough to work out words and then paused.

“You need to talk to him,” Lovett insisted. “You need to make him listen."

“Me and Tommy are fine,” Favs was muttering hotly.

“No you’re fucking _not_ , you fucking repressed WASP, you haven’t spoken in two weeks, just because you’re not actively screaming at each other doesn’t mean you’re _fine_.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lovett.”

Tommy went still, like an animal sensing danger on the horizon; or a little kid listening to mom and dad fight, he wasn’t sure, neither scenario was very flattering to him. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Favs and Lovett really disagree. Even at Lovett’s most obnoxious and outrageous set to full Loud and Wrong, at worst Favs would turn red or giggle sheepishly. He would never snap back at Lovett, which is what seemed to be happening.

“Oh, don’t I?” There was a weird note in Lovett’s voice. Patronizing, yes, but also something else Tommy couldn’t really identify. “Don’t I know, Favs?”

“You sound so pretentious when you talk like that.”

“He had a fucking panic attack earlier today, and it took him an hour to calm down. You don’t think a falling out with his best friend over some bullshit didn’t have an impact?”

“It wasn’t...it’s wasn’t over some _bullshit_ , Lovett.” Favs sounded aggrievd.

“I’m just saying. You didn’t see him. He looked like he was—it was scary.”

“You don’t think you had anything to do that?” Favs asked, a little sanctimonious. Lovett must be right, maybe Tommy had been missing Favs too, because it was so familiar it made him slightly wistful to hear.

But it barely slowed Lovett down. “Yeah, it was my fault,” he replied, every word fierce. “It was _definitely_ my fault. I fucked up. I fucked up a lot.” He was audibly gritting his teeth, which was pretty interesting. Tommy didn’t know you could do that in real life. “So now I’m going to do what I need to, to give him what he deserves. He deserves a lot better. And I’m giving myself a pretty wide fucking mandate, okay? So deal with it.”

There was the sound of a chair being shoved away from a table, and then Lovett came storming through the doorway, nearly smacking right into Tommy, where he was clearly eavesdropping just outside the doorway.

He grimaced. “Sorry,” he said preemptively.

Lovett barely slowed down. “I’m fine,” he said tightly, in a _very follow me, I’m distraught_ type of voice, so Tommy took a moment to peer around the doorway at Favs, who was thoughtfully staring at the grain of the tabletop, and hurried after Lovett, who was marching into the TV room and pacing a little by the couch.

Tommy sidled up, hesitating only a second before taking Lovett by the shoulders. “Hey.” Lovett went still, letting Tommy hold him in place, which felt like a victory. “What’s up?”

Partially dislodging Tommy’s hands, Lovett shoved at his chest. “Why did I just have to sit through fifteen minutes of Jonathan Favreau’s painfully earnest apology tour for apparently breaking my heart with his dick over the summer?” He shoved him again, not too hard, but emphatic. “Why would you do that to me?”

“Um.” It wasn’t really what Tommy wanted to spend his evening talking about, especially when he’d spent the past two hours napping in Lovett’s arms, and Lovett was standing so close to him now and it felt like—maybe. Things might be—

But Lovett was waiting expectantly, and Tommy sighed. “I just. I think Favs might have been a little...careless with your feelings this summer.”

“For the last time, I don’t want Favs’ dick.” Lovett rolled his eyes.

Tommy nodded, and tried to look unbothered. He thought of Katie. Lovett was telling him this, and maybe Tommy just needed to trust him on this one. Maybe it wasn’t up to Tommy how Lovett felt.

His silence must have been damning somehow, though, because Lovett collapsed on the couch, waiting for Tommy to follow and set beside him before flopping a leg over Tommy’s lap.

“Fine, I’ll talk,” Lovett said, like he was at the end of a length interrogation, even though Tommy was just sitting there saying nothing. “God, fuck. I hate this.” He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling as he spoke. “Fine. Yes. Did I have a little crush on Favs over the summer? Sure. Who wouldn’t? I have two eyes and a dick, don’t I? I’m a human man with _needs_ , am I not?”

Tommy let the words flow through him and around him. It was better to actually hear it from Lovett, than make up what he thought he felt for Favs in his head. Even if it didn’t feel _great_ , right now.

Blindly, Lovett felt for Tommy’s hand until Tommy gave it too him, and Lovett tugged absently at his fingers while he plowed on. “But we were never serious, not at all. I didn’t really get that, like, how _different_ it could be, until—well, you. Until I met you.” Lovett made a face. “Wait, that’s inaccurate, that’s not true. You were a _dick_ to me when we first met, like jesus christ. Knocking me into walls, refusing to let me borrow a t-shirt. It was full-on bullying. No question.”

“Lovett.”

“But _eventually_ ,” he continued, as though Tommy had never interrupted, “the way things were with us was so obviously different than they ever were with Favs. With Favs, it didn’t really feel different, going back to being just friends. But with you, I just—kept wanting more, and more.”

He brought both hands up to cover his bright red face. “God, I wish I were dead.”

“Lovett.” Carefully, Tommy peeled Lovett’s hands from his face. “Look at me.”

After a long moment, Lovett fluttered his eyelashes open, looking petulant. “What?”

Heart beating so fast even as a strange wave of calm washed over him, Tommy leaned forward and kissed Lovett, who gave a small gasp and let his mouth fell open.

Tommy let himself give into it for a while, stroking Lovett’s tongue with his own, sucking his bottom lip, cupping his warm cheek in one hand so he could tip his face back. Lovett kept sucking in breaths, like he couldn’t catch just one, and when Tommy pulled back Lovett looked drowsy, mouth red, eyes drooping.

Tommy looked at him, at his dazed, surprised eyes, and said, “You’re really important to me.” Unable to resist, he darted in and pressed on more kiss to Lovett’s mouth. “And I’m going to be nicer to you. Better. I promise I’ll be better.”

Lovett tilted his head, taking in that pledge.

“Favs is nice,” he said slowly, after a pause

“I know,” Tommy said, disgruntled. He didn’t want to talk about Favs. “I’m nice, too.”

But Lovett shook his head lazily agains the back of the couch. “No you’re not, you’re—crazy, you’re so _intense_ , always, and cynical and like, such a stubborn jackass and you _have_ to be right, all the time, it’s so annoying, you practically have a goddamn disorder—”

Tommy sighed, sagging back against the couch, Lovett tucked into his side. “Man, I sound pretty great.”

Lovett made a frustrated sound. “That’s the thing—you _are_.” He sat up on his knees on his couch and cupped Tommy’s jaw, resisting when Tommy tried to pull away away. “You are _so_ great.”

Tommy let Lovett hold him still, but knew he was probably making a face. That seemed inaccurate, and his doubt must have been clear, because Lovett rolled his eyes, laughing.

He shook Tommy’s face gently, faux-scolding. "You don’t take anything for granted. Nothing. You just—throw yourself into something, when you care about it. It’s—it’s kind of scary, frankly.”

“Again, I sound like a fucking nut.”

“You are. You definitely are. And you’re a good person.” When Tommy opened his mouth to argue, Lovett moved a hand to cover the bottom half of his face. “You don’t have to be Favs to be a good person. There’s room for other kinds of good people.”

That sounded fake to Tommy. That sounded like the bullshit people told people who weren’t really good but were also pathetic and wanted to think they weren’t.

“I like the way you are,” Lovett said softly, like he was telling a secret.

The breath caught in Tommy’s throat, and he forgot to let it out until he went a little lightheaded and had to exhale in a big gust, all at once.

Tommy didn’t know if anyone had every said that to him, or if they had—he didn’t remember ever believing someone before like he believed Lovett.

“You too,” he said hoarsely, when he felt like he could speak again.

They sat there, soaking that in, until Tommy wasn’t sure when, until the sun went down, the rest of the house politely avoiding the TV room for the entire night.

 

*

 

Tommy was sitting in the kitchen, trying to get himself worked up enough to write his standard indignant complaint email to the landlord. They had mice again, and the landlord never did shit about it, and no one else in the house ever did anything either, and so it always ended up being Tommy’s responsibility. 

Normally that knowledge would piss him off enough that it would be all the fuel he’d need to write a truly scathing email, but today it was hard to dredge up the authentic anger he needed. He was heading over to Lovett’s in an hour, and Lovett had been texting him nonstop about his stupid lab partner since noon and every time Tommy’s phone pinged again it made him grin.

He started typing, trying to build up his outrage.

_What do we need to do to get you to address this problem? Help me understand so that I can do it._

His usual flair for angry emailing was eluding him. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

 _Do I need to take legal action?_

Man, it really felt like he was phoning it in. 

“Can’t even leave a fucking banana on the counter,” he grumbled to himself, typing that out just to see, deleting it.

“Thank god you’re taking care of it,” Favs said from the doorway, making Tommy swear and wheel around in his chair.

“Jesus,” he breathed out. “Fuck. Announce yourself, for christ’s sake!”

Casually, so casually it was clearly a ruse, Favs sidled over and sat down. “So you’re sending the landlord a patented Angry Tommy Email?”

Tommy glanced at the three sentences he’d managed in the body of the email. Maybe four, if he counted “Dear Mr. Leonard.”

“Kind of,” he hedged. 

“Oh, good.” Favs looked relived. “I called them yesterday and tried to tell them about the mice but by the end of it, I somehow managed to apologize to them. It was useless. I think the guy was laughing as he hung up.” Favs frowned, like he was mad at himself. 

“You called the landlord’s office?” Tommy was honestly a little stunned. Favs was a famously stringent conflict avoider, especially with their cantankerous landlord, who sucked. 

“Yeah, well, I figured you don’t have to be the default bad guy all the time. I can pick up the phone too, and I’m VP anyway, I should have to do the shitty jobs sometimes, too.” He looked sheepish. “But clearly I’m bad at it and I swear I felt a mouse walk over my feet last night, can you talk to them?”

Favs looked so pathetic, and Tommy felt a whoosh of relief settle in his chest, to be talking again, to be able to take some stuff off his plate. “Yeah, Favs. Of course I can.” He turned back to his computer, his righteous zeal reinvigorated, and capped off his email with a decently worded threat to suggest the student paper seek an open records requests on complaints at all of his properties in Madison.

“So I ran into Lovett the other day,” Favs said nonchalantly.

Tommy rubbed the back of his neck, a little guilty. “Yeah, I...might have overheard a little bit of that.”

“I’ve been...kind of a jackass lately." Favs was frowning in deep consternation. “Like, not just lately. For a while. And I didn’t really, like, know? I couldn’t tell, or I didn’t want to know, or something.”

“You weren’t so bad,” Tommy rushed to say, but Favs just shook his head. At least a smile was peaking out at the corners now.

“And you know what, I was all set to apologize for not being better about his feelings or whatever because this big pushy blond guy told me I should, but it’s the weirdest thing—something tells me Lovett’s pretty hung up on someone else these days.”

Tommy knew he was blushing and he shoved at Favs’ shoulder. “Oh my god, shut up.”

“Who says it’s you? Maybe it’s some other strapping young fraternity member.”

Tommy attempted to smother Favs with both hands. “Fuck you.”

“That Caleb, he’s so handsome. Or Jimmy, with all that hair.” Favs was laughing too hard to continue, Tommy trying to pin him to the table. 

He might have won, but Travis interrupted them. 

“Yo, someone needs to pick up the keg for the weekend,” Travis said, looking meaningfully at Tommy.

Tommy opened his mouth, in such a good mood that he didn’t really give a shit; he’d be happy to pick up the beer, whatever. Who cared. But Favs cut in. “It’s your job, Travis. Tommy’s busy with the budget.”

Travis looked startled. When Tommy glanced at Favs, Favs himself seemed unsure where the sudden unyieldingness had come from, but when he caught Tommy’s eye, he grinned. 

Throwing up his hands, Travis acquiesced. “God, fine, I’ll do it. You ask a guy to do a favor nine hundred times and suddenly you’re the bad guy.” And he was out the door.

“You do too much for this stupid house,” Favs said. “The least we could do is not actively take advantage of you.”

Touched, Tommy nudged Favs’ wrist with his knuckles. “Thanks, man.” 

Tommy felt like he should say more, but Favs was smiling at him, easy and open, and Tommy let it go. He smiled back. 

From the front of the house, there was a bang as the door slammed open. “Tommy!” Lovett’s voice carried easily through the house. “Tommy, where are you, I need you to come kill Jason!” 

He found them in the kitchen, nodding at Favs and throwing himself into the chair next to Tommy, already scowling.

Picking up the cue easily, Tommy said, “So this Jason kid, I hear he’s up to no good again. True or false?” 

And Lovett was off.

Whatever Jason the Lab Partner’s crimes were this week was difficult to say, as Lovett had clearly built up a head of steam and Tommy had lost the thread a few topic pivots earlier.

He didn’t realize he was smiling until he looked over and saw Favs watching Lovett and grinning just as broadly. Tommy felt a pang of recognition that he probably had the exact same expression on his face.

Lovett paused like he could tell Tommy’s attention had been diverted by a half of a percentage point and that unacceptable and shot him a look. “ _What_?”

Tommy did his best to keep a straight face. “Nothing. Tell me everything.”

Suspicious, but clearly wanting to get to the emotional climax of his tale, Lovett returned to his rant.

Across the table, Favs met his eye, shooting a commiserating look Tommy’s way as Lovett went off again.

It was actually really nice, Tommy thought, to be able to look at Favs and share the same fond, tolerant smile.

Tommy just rolled his eyes tolerantly and went back to listening to Lovett complain.

 

*

 

In a subtle shift that Tommy was nonetheless deeply pleased with, whenever Lovett was around the frat, he spent most of his time with Tommy now. He still holed up occasionally to talk nerd stuff with Favs about the College Democrats. But for the most part, Favs would drift off after a while, and Lovett would stay with Tommy. They'd head to his room, or chill in the TV room, and it was...it was nice. Tommy was continually surprised by how nice it was.

“God, I’m bored. I’ve read this chapter like three times and it’s still the most boring thing.” He flopped back dramatically on the bed. 

“So get ahead on your Pysch homework,” Tommy said absently. “Or do that online stuff for your lab. There’s tons of stuff to do.”

“But I don’t _want_ to,” Lovett whined.

“That sounds like a personal problem." But Tommy still reached across to rub absently at Lovett’s knee. 

To Lovett’s credit, he waited a whole seven minutes before starting up again.

“Come on, can’t we just go to the bar now?” Lovett batted at Tommy’s hat like a cat, knocking it loose until Tommy took it off and tossed it on the ground, messing with his flat hair to get it to sit right.

“Lovett.” 

Lovett held up a defensive hand. “Like, I know you have responsibilities, don’t throw another fucking tantrum about me assuming you don’t have to work hard okay?”

Tommy laughed. “Alright, fine. I won’t.” He rubbed at his eyes. “But I do have to lock down this social budget or they’re going to kick me out of the damn frat. It’s my only source of utility.” He chuckled, but when he glanced up he saw Lovett was looking at him darkly.

“People like you for other reasons than what you can do for them.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh. Okay.”

“I’m serious. It’s annoying when you talk that way about yourself.” Lovett leaned his legs out to poke at Tommy’s thigh. Tommy caught one skinny ankle, holding it still. “I mean it.”

“Okay, fine,” Tommy said, laughing a little. “People like me for other reasons. Like you, you like me for my dick, I think mostly.”

Lovett kicked his trapped foot. “Tommy,” he said severely.

"And it's good experience for my major, which is important to me, for like my future and career and stuff." It sounded real when he said it out loud, which was why he was a little startled when Lovett just snorted.

“You’re so full of shit, you don’t even want to be in the business school.” 

He said it so confidently like he knew exactly every doubt that went through Tommy’s head about the future and had no problem just spilling it out like this. It sent a shudder of alarm up his spine like he was looking right through him.

It might have also made Tommy a little defensive, in a not great way.

“You don’t know anything about me,” he said, harsher than he needed to.

Lovett’s entire face darkened, startlingly, like a literal thundercloud. Tommy had never seen that happen in real life.

He kicked again at Tommy’s leg, harder this time, until Tommy had to grab both his ankles to still them

“Yes, I _do_ know you,” Lovett said hotly. “Yes, I goddamn _do_. I’ve spent the last three months watching you stoically grin and bear it through this major that you fucking hate, all because you like, think being miserably is what you deserve or something, and I’m sick of it. It’s not what you deserve. You’re wrong. You deserve to do something you actually like.”

Tommy’s grip on Lovett’s ankles went slack. He shifted and the frat papers slid off his lap, but he barely paid attention as they fluttered to the floor. He just kept staring at Lovett, who still seemed defiant but was becoming more uncertain the longer Tommy stared at him.

Lovett bit at the corner of his thumbnail. “Are you—hey, I was just, I don’t know. You can do what you want. You don’t have to listen to me.” Hesitantly, he sat forward to put a hand on Tommy’s thigh. He squeezed. “I was just saying.”

“God, fine,” Tommy said suddenly, and moving almost like he was in a dream, Tommy reached into the loose pocket of his gym shorts and pulled out his phone. 

“Tommy? Wait, what are you doing?”

But Tommy couldn’t quite answer, focused on making the call. With his free hand, he covered Lovett’s hand over his leg and squeeze. 

The phone rang once, twice, three times, before his dad picked up.

“Tommy?” His dad sounded cautiously pleased to hear from him. “Hey buddy, I’m glad you called.”

“Dad,” he said slowly. “Hey. I wanted to talk to you about something.” His voice was shaking. 

“Okay, that's okay," his dad urged. "Go ahead.” 

“I want to switch majors.”

He was on the verge of hyperventilating, he realized dimly. He could hear the air rattling in his throat. Beside him, Lovett was squeezing Tommy’s hand with both of his own, looking more than a little alarmed himself. It was grounding.

“Tom, honey,” his dad said urgently into the phone. “Calm down. Please.”

Tommy did his best to modulate his breathing. He did the counting thing his old therapist used to talk about—five in, hold for five, five out.

Slowly, he quieted. He heard his dad sigh. “Kiddo, you’re a mystery. I just don’t understand why you think I’d be upset about your switching majors, if it’s what you really wanted.”

“Sorry,” Tommy muttered.

“You don’t have to apologize, I just—I wish I could see inside your head, sometimes.”

Of course his dad wasn’t mad. His dad rarely got mad (his mom complained about it sometimes), but Tommy had still worked himself up into a panic about the whole thing.

“Well.” His dad paused, then laughed. “What do you want to switch to?”

“Political science,” Tommy said hesitantly.

His dad made a considering sound. “Okay. That makes sense. You’ve always been very interested in current events. How does this match up with the credits you’ve already covered?”

“Um, well. I have to talk to my advisor, but it might—it might mean an extra semester. Maybe. But I can take summer classes, which would speed things up,” he rushed to add.

“Tommy, it’s okay.” 

At his side, Lovett was grinning really wide. He looked slightly terrifying.

His dad was talking softly in his ear, and Tommy wanted to tell him about Lovett, right then. It had only been a few weeks, and he’d never told his parents about any guy he’d ever been with, but he knew it would be alright. Just like his major. Just like everything else he made excuses in his head for never telling them about.

But Tommy looked at Lovett, who was shamelessly eavesdropping and moving closer to Tommy until he was practically in his lap, and Tommy just smiled to himself, because there was a plenty of time for that.

When Tommy hung up, Lovett tackled him into the bed. Tommy, a little lightheaded from the sudden release of tension, let him do it, flopping heavily onto his back.

“I knew it!” Lovett crowed, kissing Tommy all over his face. “I knew it! I _told_ you!”

“Holy shit,” Tommy breathed out. “Holy _shit_." 

He looped his arms around Lovett’s waist, heart rate slowly relaxing to a normal human rate as he lay there, letting Lovett kiss his nose and his cheek before tilting to capture his mouth, kissing him thoroughly. They parted just enough to catch their breath, Tommy taking the time to just look at Lovett, up close, his nose and his eyes, just watching Tommy, smiling at him. Just happy to be close to him, it seemed.

“You were right,” he agreed easily. 

“That was pretty badass.” Lovett kissed him one last time and then settled his cheek on his Tommy’s chest. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

"God, me either." He breathed out. He felt weightless, like he could tackle anything right then. "I do have to work on that thing again soon."

Lovett snorted. "Can we not just savor this victory for like, five minutes?"

Tommy cupped the back of Lovett's head, liking the way Lovett nudged into his hand until he started stroking his hair. "Yeah," he said. "We can.

 

*

 

After that, Lovett seemed to feel more and more confident to boss Tommy around about literally every part of his life, and to Tommy's mortification, he found he didn't hate it very much.

“Why are you frowning so much?” From his spot down by the foot of Lovett's tiny bed, Lovett reached over and poked Tommy’s forehead. “You’re going to get all wrinkly that way.

“It’ll look distinguished,” Tommy said, distracted. He was staring at the end of semester spreadsheet and it was giving him vertigo. He had three more weeks until it was officially due, but he tended to get a head start on it because it always fucking sucked. 

Vaguely, he noted Lovett had moved until he was hip to hip, peering over Tommy’s shoulder. 

“You want to help?” Tommy asked, surprisingly fine with the idea. There was nothing wrong with having his—Lovett help him with some math, especially since Tommy hated it and it was Lovett’s actual major.

Lovett’s entire face scrunched up, in a way that Tommy privately thought was not reflective of what he thought was a perfectly reasonable question.

“What? No! What?”

“I mean, you seemed to be angling for it.”

“I’d sooner fucking die,” Lovett declared, dramatic and unrepentant.

Tommy just looked at him. “I mean, I don’t really want to be doing this either, so it’s not like I’m going to beg you.” He set it aside, stretching his arms up above his head and letting one drape loosely over Lovett’s shoulder, marveling that he was allowed to do this now, no pretense. Just hang out at Lovett’s apartment whenever he wanted, sleepover, mess around later. No big deal.

“Smooth,” Lovett said with a snort. He nodded at the paper. “Is that still the social budget?”

“Partially. Like, we always have a couple big parties at the end of the semester but only f we can afford it. So I have to go through every expense and make sure the report adds up, or the board of trustees could audit us and it would be a whole fucking mess. Plus end-of-semester parties are a pain in the ass.”

“Why don’t you want to go?”

Tommy tilted his head back. “It’s mostly bullshit, I mean, I have to spend most of it keeping track of supplies and making sure no one does anything stupid enough to make us lose the deposit and a lot of the younger pledges always try to spike the drinks, which is...not ideal, I don’t know why they keep doing that, it’s basically jungle juice, like it doesn’t need extra liquor? And I can’t ever really get as drunk as I want to because a few important alumni always come and I always end up getting stuck talking to them.”

He was frowning now. Fuck, it was stressing him out just thinking of it.

“Christ, you need like a thundershirt or something,” Lovett said, shaking his head.

“The fuck is that?”

“It’s like, for dogs, when they’re afraid of storms. It’s like being hugged or something, it calms them down.”

The back of Tommy’s neck went hot, stupidly. “Are you...offering to hug me until I calm down?”

Lovett huffed out an offended, spluttery sound. “No? I’m just—you’re the _only person_ I know who could turn being part of a frat, which is essentially just a vehicle for a college-sanctioned four-year party, into such a thankless drudgery of a task.”

Sighing wearily, Tommy attempted to explain yet again, “It’s not a four-year party, we talked about this, it’s about networking and making career connections—”

Lovett groaned loudly, interrupting. “Oh my god, stop, you’re doing it again.” He got to his knees and started unbuckling his belt. “Just—take your shirt off, I’m done listening to you complain about fraternity responsibilities.”

Reluctantly, a corner of Tommy’s mouth turned up. “I’m sorry, am I boring you?” He reached casually for his shirt, toying with the hem. “Should I just go?”

Lovett looked unimpressed, tripping a little as he kicked off his shoes. “Shut up and take your clothes off.” He paused, as though steeling himself, and then said, mostly gritted out through his teeth, “I’m going to take care of you this time, baby.” 

Tommy did his honest best, and it was still only three second before he burst out laughing. “I’m sorry!” he tried, seeing Lovett’s scowl. “I’m sorry, just—your face!”

“Shut up about my face.” Lovett got naked the rest of the way and swatted Tommy’s hands away from where he was unzipping his jeans. “Stop. Let me do it.”

Deliberately, Lovett slid to the floor between Tommy’s knees and unzipped his pants, drawing out his dick like it was a special treasure, face lighting up while Tommy tried not to feel too mortified. It was a just a _dick_.

“You’ve got a really pretty dick,” Lovett observed. “It gets so red, just like your face.”

“This is weird dirty talk." 

Punishingly, Lovett took the head between his lips and sucked hard, catching Tommy off guard until he was wheezing. Lovett pulled off with a pop, arching a brow, and Tommy nodded hurriedly. “Lesson learned. My bad. Say whatever you want.”

Lovett did get back to it, getting messy and slick, like he was into it enough that he didn’t care how he looked. Tommy kept his hands behind him, propped up so he could watch.

It was different than any blowjob Lovett had given Tommy before. Before, it was like he was trying to prove he was good at this. And honestly, Tommy was no judge, so he couldn’t really say—he was usually too distracted by how out of his head he felt to give an honest assessment of Lovett’s performance.

This time, though. It was like he was trying to tell Tommy something important.

He couldn’t get over the way Lovett looked when he did this, especially when he wasn't consciously showing off. There was something so earnest about him, lips pursed, one hand leisurely jacking Tommy off at the base, the other rubbing soothing strokes over his thigh where it was shaking.

“Lovett,” Tommy said unevenly. He rubbed helplessly at Lovett’s shoulders, needing to touch.

Lovett pulled off, looking up at Tommy with dazed eyes. 

“I’ve never liked doing this as much as I do with you.” His voice was so hoarse Tommy could barely hear him.

His eyes closed as he took Tommy back into his mouth, lips wet and swollen and so red. Tommy scratched his nails lightly over Lovett’s scalp and watched Lovett groan, naked back arching, perfect little ass sticking out. 

“Lovett,” Tommy muttered, “god, that’s—Jon, you’re doing such a good job, you’re so good at that, I love it, it feels so good.”

Lovett’s cheeks went red at the praise, groaning a little. He blinked his eyes open to look up at Tommy, pulling off.

“Will you fuck me?” he asked, so sweetly, so unbelievably sweetly for Tommy. 

“Yes,” Tommy said, scrambling to pull Lovett back up onto the bed. Too turned on to be anything but completely earnest in his response.

He pulled Lovett up to straddle his hips, leaning over to grab for stuff in the side table.

God, he would never get enough of getting his fingers in Lovett. The way Lovett chased the feeling with his hips, how he bit his lip, surprisingly biddable as Tommy eased in a finger, then two, finding the right angle, twisting and rubbing inside until Lovett’s mouth fell open and a line appeared on his forehead as he furrowed his brow, hips dropping as Tommy got a little rougher, opening him up.

“Fuck, do it,” Lovett begged, finally, “please do it, I want it, please, Tommy.”

“Sh, it’s okay, I’ll give it to you,” Tommy whispered mindlessly, reaching for the condom and slicking himself up, a little fumbling, hands shaking in anticipation.

They hadn’t done it much since the first time. So much of the past few weeks had been them both being careful, working so hard to go easy on each other, easier than they ever had before. At first, Tommy had thought it was mostly him, but then he’d catch Lovett eyeing him, unexpectedly fond, and his heart would flip.

 _It’s not just me_ , he’d thrill, still not over it,  _it’s not just me_.

Holding steady to Lovett’s hip with one hand, holding the base of his cock with the other, he watched, mouth open, as Lovett bit his lip and lowered himself down, taking Tommy in, everything hot and wet and tight until Tommy groaned, overwhelmed.

“Tommy, I—” he bit off, arching his back, groaning as he adjusted. 

Tommy kissed his face, his cheeks, his mouth, lingering there, sucking on Lovett’s tongue until Lovett clenched, nearly strangling Tommy’s cock.

“Lovett,” Tommy whimpered, squeezing hard at his waist.

“Go,” he urged, drawing himself up on his knees to drop back down again.

He gripped Tommy’s shoulders hard, circling his hips, lost in the feel of it.

Tommy watched him, caught up in the concentration on his face, single-minded, letting Lovett set the pace at first, cock blush-red and bobbing between them.

Eventually, Tommy got too restless, hips hitching upward, needing Lovett closer, to breath in and out against his cheek, his neck. 

“Tommy,” Lovett whined like he could read his mind. 

Tommy sat up and pulled Lovett in by the small of his back, until he was sprawled completely in Tommy’s lap, little leverage from his knees, just letting Tommy pull him down and down into his thrusts, hands holding tight enough to Lovett’s hips that they’d probably bruise.

It felt so good—it felt so unbelievably, Tommy almost senseless with it.

“Fuck, I love you.” Tommy attached his mouth to the hinge of Lovett’s jaw, sucking hard. Lovett gasped, hands tangling in Tommy’s hair.

“Oh, my god,” Lovett moaned. “Ah, Tommy, ah, ah.”

“I do,” Tommy insisted, like Lovett was arguing with him or doing anything but limply letting Tommy drive Lovett by the hips neatly into each hard thrust. “I love you, I love you so much, Jon, _fuck_ , that’s so—baby, I love how you feel, it’s so good, you’re _good_.”

Tommy knew he sounded like an asshole but he couldn’t stop, and Lovett was getting so loud, outright mewling as Tommy kept spouting nonsense, telling him how good he was, praise and love words and dirty shit about how tight his ass was, anything that tripped over Tommy’s brain was coming out his mouth, and he couldn’t even worry about stopping the flow with Lovett’s shivered on him and around him, yanking him in by the ears to ravish Tommy’s mouth, moaning and crying out his little, “ah, ah, ahs” at intervals. 

By the end, they were barely separating, Tommy loath to let Lovett pull too far off his cock, grinding in deep and hard where Lovett sat on his lap, leaning back enough that the angle seemed to be right. 

He created just enough space to bring a hand to thumb roughly at the head of Lovett’s cock.

With his other arm, he held him by the small of his back, keeping them tightly sealed, circling his hips inside, giving him tight, smooth strokes on his cock like Tommy knew he liked.

Clasping his knees tight around Tommy’s hips, Lovett yelped in his ear, “Like that, please Tommy, please, holy shit it’s so good, I love it, ahh—!”

He threw his arms around Tommy’s neck, holding him almost punishingly tight as he came, moaning right in Tommy’s ear, but Tommy barely heard it, his own blood pounding as he pushed through a few more minutes and came, shouting, every muscled in his body tensing until he went limp, totally spent.

Settling back, he slid out carefully, running his fingers appreciatively around Lovett’s warm, soft hole, until Lovett twitched away, oversensitive. He got rid of the condom and cleaned them up, and when he curled back in around Lovett, Lovett curled up against his chest, pensive. 

“You okay?” Tommy asked, smoothing Lovett’s hair back from his forehead.

Lovett sighed, fingers running up and down Tommy’s breastbone.

“I wanted to make it all about you, for once,” he muttered, aggrieved. “You’re always so focused on me, and making it good for me, and I just want to do that for you too.”

“You do,” Tommy insisted. “You always do. I love it, I love everything about doing that with you.” Tentatively, he kissed Lovett’s forehead. “I love you.” 

Lovett stilled, hand curled up near Tommy’s heart. “No one’s ever said that to me before,” he whispered. “I mean, like, my parents, just not—you know.”

“It’s okay,” Tommy said, running his hand up and down Lovett’s back. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s fine.”

Lovett propped his bony elbows up on Tommy’s chest. “Shut up, Tommy.” He took a breath and let it out. “I love you, too.” His voice was a little high, but steady. He met Tommy’s eye challengingly. 

Tommy nodded, wobbly. “Okay.” He kissed Lovett again because he couldn’t _not_. He couldn’t just lie there, Lovett looking a little uncertain and a lot stubborn, his sweet face so close al Tommy has to do is lean forward and brush his lips over it, once, twice, until they fell back, kissing more, kissing until Tommy’s mouth was numb and they were mostly drifting off.

“Tommy, I really do,” Lovett whispered fervently into the dark, throat working like he needed to say more, but Tommy ran a soothing hand down his back.

 “It’s okay, baby,” he mumbled out, mostly asleep. “It’s okay.” It was. He got it.

Lovett got a tight grip on his hand and didn’t let go, not for the rest of the night.

 

*

 

It took Tommy another week or so to figure out why he was still kind of jittery.                    

It didn’t make sense. Things with Lovett were great, his grades were a little steadier, he’d even called his dad earlier that week and they’d had a totally pleasant conversation. Things were _good_. So he had no idea why he was so on edge. 

Favs looked at him over the ridge of his coffee mug one morning.

“I mean, it seems pretty clear to me. You’re all stressed because you haven’t locked him down yet,” he said hoarsely, tired but imminently reasonable. 

“What are you talking about?” Tommy said. “Yes, I have.”

“So if I say, what time are you meeting your boyfriend this afternoon, you say—”

“Lovett’s not my boyfriend,” Tommy said automatically, dawning on him. “Oh.”

Favs nodded and graciously did not gloat for more than two minutes at his relationship wisdom. "What can I say, I know my friend. And my friend is an old-fashioned schoolmarm who likes the security of labels," Favs said smugly, cackling when Tommy reached to smack at the back of his head.

His phone dinged again as he was getting dressed.

 _I hate wednesdays_  Lovett texted with an angry face.

He had back-to-back lectures this afternoon, and Tommy knew he got sleepy and then cranky, in that order. 

Tommy smiled, shaking his head. _I’m on my way._

?? Lovett replied, but Tommy didn’t answer, already out the door.

He stopped at the coffee shop on the way, texting Lovett to let him know he’d meet him at the bottom of Bascom Hill. 

Meanwhile, Tommy was plotting. What was the best way to break the news. Or to ask. Did he need to ask? Usually, it was more straightforward than this. Or was it? Was it just Lovett that made everything so much more complicated?

Lovett was waiting at the bottom of the hill, texting, and scowling. Coming up behind him, Tommy leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Clearly fighting a smile, Lovett still attempted to scold. “You’re going to make me late.”

Tommy handed Lovett his coffee and the bag with the bagel in it, trying to think of what he needed to say. 

A small, wondering smile spread on Lovett's face. He looked almost shy as he glanced at the coffee and back up at Tommy. “Thanks.”

Tommy nodded, distracted and fidgety.

Lovett peered up at him. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you all twitchy?”

“I’m not.” Tommy ran a hand through his hair, realized what he was doing, froze. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay, but it better not take more than three minutes, I have class and if I’m late I’ll have to sit in the back and you know I can’t see anything.” 

“Because you’re short.” 

“Because _fuck_ you, that’s why.”

“Lovett.” Tommy took a breath. He wanted to keep teasing him, but Lovett did have class, and he didn’t want to make him late. “I’ve been thinking. And I just.” He actually gulped. He had no idea why he was so fucking nervous, he just—now that he was on the cusp of defining this, it felt suddenly tenuous, like Lovett was ready to slip through his fingers again. 

“Tommy?” Lovett looked alarmed. He touched Tommy’s elbow gently. “Are you okay? You’re breathing all weird.”

“I want us to be official. Like, officially dating. Together.” It came out in a rush, but Tommy was still proud of it. It was out there. Boom. Done. In Lovett’s court now.

Lovett, who was tilting his head to the side like a puppy. “What are you talking about?” he asked slowly. “We’re already dating.” 

They blinked at each other for a moment, in equal but opposite confusion.

“What? No, we’re not.” Tommy would have definitely noticed if they’d had that conversation. He hurried to correct himself—“I mean, not _yet_.”

Lovett was mystified. “You blew me this morning and met me before class.” He held up the bagel and coffee. “You brought me a study snack. How is this not already boyfriend behavior?”

Tommy felt his cheeks get hot. “That’s not—those are just little things. They’re not a big deal.”

He felt a little affronted on Lovett’s behalf. Tommy was far from bringing his A-game, here. Lovett deserved better than an occasional two-dollar bagel and a couple of lazy blowjobs.

He watched as Lovett’s mouth dropped open. “Are you telling me that this,” he waved in Tommy’s general direction and shook his bagel in the air, “is you not even trying?”

“What? No! I’m _trying_ , I’m just—Lovett, do you want to date me or not?”

But Lovett didn’t seem to hear him. “My god. You mean—there’s more?” He boggled at Tommy. “What is Boyfriend Tommy even _like_?”

Annoyed, Tommy crowded closer, needing Lovett to stop looking so honestly taken aback. He tugged him in carefully by the elbows so he wouldn’t spill his drink. “Yes, Lovett. There’s more to dating than, like, hanging out all the time and messing around.” Lovett definitely deserved more than just _that_.

“Like _what_?” But Lovett resisted Tommy’s hold enough so he could lean back and stare at him. “Are you telling me you’re—what? Gonna kick it into high gear now?” He looked overwhelmed at the prospect. “Because I honestly don’t think I can handle that. I’m only a man, Tommy. Have mercy.”

God, Tommy just wanted to gnaw at him sometimes. He settled for rolling his eyes and pressing his face into Lovett’s fuzzy hair, inhaling. “I can be good at this.”

He fucked up things with Katie, and he’d been a dick to Lovett in the beginning, but he was going to get better at this. He felt something settle within him, confident.

“I’m going to date the hell out of you,” he vowed. He smiled into the crown of Lovett’s head.

“Christ,” Lovett said. He sounded breathless. He brought his arms slowly around Tommy’s waist and squeezed. “I guess I can...try to tighten up, too?”

Tommy still kind of wanted to shake him, but also hold him against his chest at the same time. He settled for the second thing.

Tommy thought about it. He shrugged. “No, don’t change anything.”

He was definitely going to be late for class at this rate, but Lovett didn’t seem to mind. He snuggled contentedly into Tommy’s chest. “Well, okay. If you say so.”

Smiling, Tommy kissed the crown of his head.

“I do.”

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh! it's done! thanks to everyone for your amazingly kind and patient notes and comments, I read everyone a million times and they made me feel awesome.
> 
> in a strange twist of fate for me, there's actually tons of extras for this au that just didn't fit into this central story, so I think I'm going to share those over the next few weeks. that hardly ever happens to me, because I tend to cram it all into the one story, so this is exciting and new! so, stay tuned.
> 
> and again: thanks, you guyssss.

**Author's Note:**

> check out [tumrbluururrr](ohjafeeljadefinitelyfeel.tumblr.com) for updates.
> 
> also: I did go to UW-Madison, why do you ask?


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